Arise
by EE's Skysong
Summary: Ba Sing Se has fallen. The Avatar has died. Now all Team Avatar has is each other. Tokka AU for Tokka Week. C9: Did you want to stay? 'Course. But we've got a job to do.'
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: "Hold on To the world we all remember dying for There's some hope left in it yet"

(An: So these are my responses to the prompts for Tokka Week 4 over on DA. They form a loosely cohesive AU where Aang died shortly after the fall of Ba Sing Se. So far, the story is semi-cohesive, but I think I'll have to skip backwards at least once. We'll see.)

Usually, Katara was the one who held them all together—her arms were always stretched wide to welcome someone, ready to pull them into a group hug. But after Aang's death, her grief was boundless. Even Sokka barely dared approach, lest she snap at him or bury him under the same sadness that held her fast.

They all felt it, after all. What were they supposed to do now? Yes, they would go to the Northern Water Tribe in search of the Avatar—all of the babies of the Southern Water tribe had already been born—but how was that an answer? How would they know him or her? And how could they wait another ten or fifteen years to end this thrice-damned war?

Sokka didn't have the answers, even though everyone expected him to. And then he learned of Suki's capture, and his grief, already great, turned as endless as Katara's. He had no ideas, no clever plans, hardly any sarcasm.

In the end, it had to be Toph. She was upset too, of course. It was her kingdom that had fallen. Even insulated from the problems of the war at the Bei Fong estate, she had always had a vague sort of pride in her nation, the same way she was proud of being one of the noblest families in the Earth Kingdom. By crippling her state, they had crippled her, and that was the sort of thing Toph simply would not stand for. And, of course, she'd been a lot fonder of Twinkletoes than she'd ever let on.

But, in the end, she was practical: it went even deeper in her heart than her pride or her endless stubbornness. If they could not use the old solution, they would have to find a new one, and it would not be in the Earth Kingdom.

So it was her fault they left Ba Sing Se. Toph bothered them until they listened: she screamed and ranted, sometimes even reached out a hand in tender support. And finally, they listened to her. They found a safe enclave for the Earth King, and then the three of them set out on Appa for the Northern Water Tribe.

There wasn't much talk on the journey north. Sokka and Katara were lost in brooding over people they could never have saved, even given the chance, and Toph was too busy being frustrated at them both. But, for once in her life, she held her tongue, biting it so hard sometimes that it bled. She had no patience for doom-saying or helplessness or depression that wouldn't end, but at least they were going along with her. It didn't matter what they said as long as they kept going.

O-o-O-o-O

Toph shivered. The air had started smelling different as soon as they reached the tip of the Earth Kingdom. Now, after three days without land, even the salt smell began to fade. Toph hated it. She couldn't see, there was nothing to hear except Katara and Sokka's griping and Appa's quiet noises of distress, and now there was nothing to smell. She was powerless, and soon she would be senseless. _And_ it was freezing.

Shivering, she crept across the saddle—they had found a replacement in storage in Ba Sing Se—until she touched leg. Sokka. After a moment, he put an arm around her and pulled her close; for someone who never remembered she was blind for more than five minutes, he was awfully sympathetic when he knew she couldn't see. "We're almost there," he said softly. He never spoke at normal volume these days, like he was afraid he would wake his—or Katara's—ghosts if he said anything too loudly.

Toph scowled, pressing into his warmth. He smelled of sweat and unwashed furs, but it was better than the antiseptic lack of smell coming off the sea. "And what are we going to find when we get there? Ice. Nothing but ice. That sounds like a great improvement."

A few weeks ago, Katara might have snapped at her for being disrespectful; Sokka might have laughed and told her she should learn to waterbend. Now there was nothing but silence. Toph sighed. "Well, I'm going to sleep. Wake me up when we get there."

O-o-O-o-O

Gentle hands nudging her, waking her from a sleep that was never deep enough these days. The smell of the sea was everywhere now, and she heard splashing—were they in the water? Sokka, as always, became her eyes without even being asked. "We're just going through the front gate now. It's a lot bigger than it used to be, trust me."

Toph lifted her head. Wet air touched her face; faintly, she smelled more furs and the sharp tang of resin and pitch. Waterbenders and boats. Fantastic. "Let me guess. You're going to tell me this place doesn't have any earth."

Sokka made an apologetic noise. "It's a waterbending city. What can I say?"

Toph crossed her arms, although really she wanted to reach over and touch Sokka's face, check his expression. For a moment, she thought she'd heard a touch of the meek good humor he'd had on the day he'd left with Aang for Chameleon Bay, but then he turned away. Toph stayed sitting down. There was no way for her to tell her location on Appa's back without a hand to guide her; she hated that almost as much as the cold.

When they arrived, Sokka started describing the situation to him again. "The chief's here, waiting for us. We're going up to his meeting room to discuss the plan." His voice held none of the excitement it might have a month ago. "The whole thing's ice." He paused. "Uh, you should probably put some boots on. I know you hate shoes, but it's not like you can see anyway."

Toph's mouth twisted to the side, but before she could insult Sokka for his usual lack of tact, gentle hands brushed the soles of her feet. Katara's hands. "Here. I have a pair that might fit you." Toph started. Katara hadn't spoken in days, not since they'd left the land. As far as Toph knew, she'd spent the entire journey perched on Appa, holding his reins. Her voice was even softer than Sokka's.

Toph wanted to reach for her, but she'd never been very good at comforting people. Instead, she sat still as Katara slipped warm leather boots on her feet. It felt odd, but they were soft, and they didn't even smell too bad. "Thanks, Katara," Toph whispered. She reached up for Katara's face before the other girl moved away and just touched her for a second, studying her features the only way she knew how.

Katara moved away, and Toph shook her head at her own foolishness. Grief wasn't a physical thing; you couldn't feel it like she felt the leather saddle beneath her.

Sokka approached her again and twined his arm through hers. Toph always felt like she should protest this, but she liked the contact more than she wanted to admit. And, anyway, she needed the help. She heard Katara slip off the saddle; then Sokka gently pulled her down.

It was strange, to say the least. She could hear her boots touch the snow, hear the crunch, but she couldn't sense it like she could earth. At least her toes were warm. She'd borrowed one of Katara's spare parkas, but it was still freezing. Sokka led her up a huge set of stairs. She could hear other people, other voices, but no one spoke very loudly. Obviously, they all already knew of the fall of the Earth Kingdom.

Wasn't there any joy left anywhere?

The stairs finally leveled out into a long platform. They walked through a large set of doors—Toph felt the air shift, heard the creak of leather and wood—and into a room that felt very large. Sokka bent down to whisper in her ear, his lips so close she blushed, even though his voice was factual instead of affectionate. "This is the reception area. The chief's over there, waiting for us." Sokka drew in a soft breath, like something had stung him.

Toph tilted her head, wishing for the thousandth time she could see his face. "What is it?"

"It's nothing." He was lying; his whole body was trembling slightly. "It's just... being in this place brings back a lot of memories." Memories of what, he wouldn't say, and Toph didn't press the issue. Their conversations were depressing enough without bringing _more_ angst into it.

O-o-O-o-O

The chief already knew what had happened in the Earth Kingdom. He had sent messages to the Southern Water Tribe, urging their kinfolk to join them so they could close off the tribe from the world forever. Toph protested this—it was giving in—but eventually the defeated way everyone spoke to her shut her up. There was no use trying to save someone who didn't want saving.

She stood sullenly, listening to Sokka discuss how they would fortify the tribe against further attack, so that somehow the Water Tribes would continue surviving, even without the Avatar to save them. They sounded so defeated, as if they were already certain this was just a stall.

Then the discussion turned to finding the new Avatar. The tribe had collected all the babies born a week before or after they had gotten word of Aang's death. Protecting them was the first priority. The toys used for testing the Avatar had been passed on to the Water Tribe after Aang's confirmation, so they already had the tools they needed to find the next incarnation. At least they had saved him long enough to keep him from dying in the Avatar state—although, in Toph's opinion, having him wake once only to never wake again was almost as bad.

O-o-O-o-O

Once the meeting was over, the three of them retreated to their guest quarters. Toph clung to Katara this time. She hadn't spoken much during the discussion, only to clarify a point or register vague agreement. Without the close quarters of traveling, it was easy to forget she was there at all; she was like a ghost.

They all set about claiming their space as though this was no different from any other part of their journey, as though Aang would walk through the cloth door at any moment and spread his bedroll beside Katara's. Toph couldn't stand the silence. She sat down on her furs and pulled her knees up to her chest. "...So what are we going to do now?" she asked softly.

Sokka's answer was sharper than usual. Toph suspected he hated the retreat as much as she did, though both of them knew there was really no other option. "What do you mean, what are we going to do? We're going to stay here and help them make this place safe against the Fire Nation. Once word reaches them that Aang's dead, this is the first place they'll attack. I don't know about you, but I don't want to have to search the whole damn Earth Kingdom for the next one."

Toph scowled. "What am I supposed to do? I can't bend here—I can't even help you guys build."

The beads in Sokka's hair—he'd taken to wearing them for some reason—clacked as he shook his head. "You'll stay with Katara and the kids. You know, do girl stuff." Toph's scowl deepened, but before she could say anything, Sokka sighed. "Don't... don't snap at me. I didn't mean to say it like that. There's an oasis here—it's earth, not ice. I'm sure the waterbenders can expand it or something, make a place we can keep the kids if we get attacked. You could bend there."

Toph kept scowling. "And what am I supposed to do 'til then, huh? Sit around picking my toes? You know I'm no good with kids." She paused. Her voice came out much softer than she would have liked. "I'm useless here, Sokka, and you know it."

Sokka's voice was penitent, abashed. "You're not useless." He touched the tip of her boot; Toph scooted back. She had her pride, no matter how much she wanted the rift between them closed. "You're never useless. We wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you."

"You're damn straight," Toph muttered, hiding her face in her knees.

It was quiet in their little shelter for a while, and then, wonder of wonders, Katara spoke. "Toph's right, Sokka. What's the point of you two staying here?" Before Aang's death, her voice, even when shouting, had been sweet, sparkling, like water dripping over gemstones. Now it was hoarse, like the call of the messenger hawks. Toph heard Sokka sit up, but Katara made a quelling noise. "I think she's got a point. I mean, neither of you can bend here, so you can't help rebuild, and when the Fire Nation comes... you'll both just be in danger."

Sokka squawked. "I can fight! I _should_ fight! Our tribe's coming here, too—did you forget that?"

Katara sighed. It was such a melancholy sound that, for a moment, Toph thought she would retreat into herself again. But she continued, her voice no louder or softer than it had been before. "That's not what I meant. I think... I think you two would be better used elsewhere, that's all."

"What, like the Fire Nation? Well, let's saddle up Appa and head on down to the palace, why don't we? I'm sure Azula's looking for volunteers to test her skills on." Sokka's voice was crueler than it used to be, which only made Toph frown more. She hated hearing them bicker—especially now, when they needed to be most united. They had each other; they needed that cohesion.

There was silence for a long moment. Toph felt it like she could usually feel vibrations; it was a physical thing, something that had ridden with them all the way here. She hugged her knees more tightly and closed her eyes, though she saw the same thing either way.

Sokka moved; the rustle of cloth suggested he'd embraced Katara. "I'm sorry, okay?" he muttered. "We're all on edge right now, that's all."

"I know," Katara answered, her voice hardly anything at all. She sighed. "Can I tell you my idea now?" There was a pause, suggesting Sokka had nodded. "...I think the two of you should go to the Earth Kingdom." Toph lifted her head, intrigued despite herself. She'd barely been here half a day, but already she was desperate for ground under her feet, the smell of grass instead of water.

Sokka made a strangled noise. "...Katara, you have no idea how hard it is for me not to snap at you right now." He let out a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice was overly careful. "Why, exactly, do you think that?"

"She's got a point, Sokka," said Toph. Another rustle said they had both turned to look at her. "I mean, I can't do anything here—no matter what you think about this 'oasis,' Katara's the one who's good with kids—and... what are you going to do? Get killed on the front lines?" Her voice was rough, raw; she didn't want to admit how many times she'd thought of just that. Aang she could bear. He was just a friend, no matter how important he might be. Sokka... Sokka _understood_ her, even though he was the world's biggest idiot.

Sokka sighed. "I know, I know. I... I guess you're right. I mean, I feel like I should stay here and back up my tribe, but..." He sighed a second time; the beads in his hair clacked again. "What, you think we should go down there and raise hell or something?"

Despite herself, Toph's lips twitched. "I was thinking find a place to hide my people, but I like your idea better. If we don't mess with the Fire Nation, who will?"

Sokka didn't speak for a moment. "...Katara... are you really sure you want me to leave? You're—"

"I'm _fine_, Sokka." Katara's voice was like a frayed rope, only holding on by a string. She must have heard it too; she cleared her throat. When she spoke again, she sounded a little more rational. "Okay, I'm not fine. But I will be. I have to. I'll just... stay here. Protect the ones I can, help fix things. And you guys can go keep the Fire Nation from wrecking the Earth Kingdom. Maybe we can't save Ba Sing Se anymore, but we've gotta make sure there'll still be people worth saving when the new Avatar is ready to fight." She sighed and got to her feet. "I'm going to go down to the healer's enclave, see the kids. I'm not going to be able to get any rest tonight."

Toph rested her head on her knees again. The silence always took on a different quality when she was alone with Sokka—there was still the grief, heavy like the air before a thunderstorm, but there was also that quiet embarrassment of being alone with her crush, one who would never notice.

After a few minutes, Sokka came over and sat down beside her, just close enough that their sides brushed. Toph didn't hesitate to snuggle into him: not just for the contact; even though the walls kept the wind away, it was still cold. Sokka settled an arm around her shoulders in that absent way of his. "Well, I guess it'll just be you and me, then." His head fell back against the wall. "So much for Team Avatar."

Toph tilted toward him. "We're still Team Avatar." Sokka turned his head—he was probably looking at her funny. She'd never stopped making fun of him for all his stupid nicknames. "We're just... doing different things, that's all. When the new Avatar gets old enough, Katara will bring him to me, and it'll be just like the old days. It was always her and him anyway. It's nothing new."

She could hear the smile in Sokka's voice when he replied; it made her smile, too. "I guess that means it's always been you and me, then, huh?" Toph nodded, a gesture she'd picked up from years of living around sighted people. "I guess I can live with that. You're pretty okay—for a bender, I mean." He ruffled her hair.

Toph punched his arm for that, but she was grinning, despite herself. He'd sounded like the old Sokka again, just for a moment. Maybe there was still some hope left in them after all.

(I promise the next few days are better. Reviews are very much appreciated.)


	2. Boomerang

Disclaimer:

(An: So this is actually the response to the prompt for Day 4, but chronologically it's second. It's pretty much the only funny part in the entire story.)

Sokka spread the map out in front of himself and weighted it down with rocks. During his time with Aang, he'd realized that he knew next to nothing about the Earth Kingdom, and he still didn't. Yes, they'd seen all the big, flashy stuff, but there was still so much of the map left. The boring parts. And the crawling-with-Fire-Nation parts. Toph was no help filling in the gaps; she'd never been farther than the Cave of Two Lovers before leaving home.

Sokka could walk the breadth of his home in ten minutes. Even the Northern Water Tribe could be navigated in a few hours. But... _damn._ Where did they even start?

Toph sat down cross-legged in front of him, eating an apple. "What're you sighing about, Meathead?" At least _she_ sounded happy. She hadn't stopped grinning since they'd dropped down on the very northernmost tip of the Earth Kingdom. Never mind that there were so many Fire Nation encampments around that they couldn't risk flying and so had only covered a few miles in the last two days; she was just glad she could see.

Sokka rubbed his jaw. How was he supposed to explain himself? Toph wasn't an optimist, she was a realist, but all the same, nothing got her down for long. She'd probably just call him a sissy. But... Sokka sighed again. "Give me your hand for a second."

Toph's mouth twisted to the side. She always got suspicious when he wanted to touch her, even though she was downright grabby with him whenever they were flying somewhere. "What for?"

"I wanna make a point. Now gimme." After a moment, Toph shrugged and stretched out the hand not holding the apple. Sokka put her hand flat down on the paper, on the part that showed where they were. Toph tweaked a brow as Sokka slowly moved her hand around the entire breadth of the Earth Kingdom on the map. "Feel that?"

Toph's brows went higher. "It's a piece of paper. _Fascinating_."

Sokka shook his head. "No. What I just showed you was how much your continent takes up on the map. That whole section is what we're trying to protect." He released Toph's hand so he could rub his forehead. "I mean, spirits, Toph, we're just two people. What are we supposed to do by ourselves?" He sighed again. "I'm starting to think we should have stayed home."

Toph scowled. Then, ratsnake-quick, she reached over and flicked his ear. "Ow!" Sokka yelped. For a blind girl, she had really, really good aim when she wanted.

"That's defeatist talk," said Toph, folding her arms across her chest. "We're here, we're alive, and we've got a job to do—there's no room for that now." She took another bite of her apple, looking thoughtful. Her voice was slow, pensive. "If you're wondering where to start, I've got an idea."

Sokka quirked a brow. Toph scowled again and reached for him, but Sokka was expecting it this time. "Sorry." He didn't know why he kept forgetting she was blind—maybe because her aim was better than his. "Please, oh wise one. Tell me what you think we should do."

Toph took another bite and chewed: slowly, to punish him for his mistake. "I think we should go to Ba Sing Se."

***

Toph grinned as Sokka spluttered like he was choking on his own spit. "What's the matter, Snoozles? You need some water or something?"

"You're _insane_!" he managed finally, throwing his arms in the air. Toph smirked. Times like these, she really wished she could see—his expression sounded hilarious. "That place will be crawling with Fire Nation. We've had a hard enough time avoiding the bastards without going straight into the scorpion-bee's nest!"

Toph shrugged, spreading her hands. "Look, Sokka. I agree with you, okay? The Earth Kingdom's _huge_. If we don't have a plan, we'll just get ourselves killed. And what are you always saying about plans?"

"That mine are awesome?" Toph glared at him. He was being obtuse on purpose. After a minute, he sighed. "That we need information to make good ones. And you think all the information's gonna be there, don't you?"

Toph shrugged again. "Where else would it be? The Fire Nation's been concentrating on two cities since the war began, and Omashu's too far away to be useful, so where else would we go?" She rubbed her jaw. "Anyway, it's only been a month since Ba Sing Se fell. I highly doubt they already have all their turtleducks in a row. It shouldn't be that hard to break into a guard complex and find some intelligence."

Sokka drummed his fingers on the ground, scratching his head again. "...You're right about that. Ba Sing Se's the big ticket item—I bet they'll have troop movement schedules and stuff there." He stuck a finger in her face. "But how are we supposed to get in, huh? It isn't like we can walk up to a Fire Nation camp and say, 'Excuse me, I've run out of sugar. Could I borrow some of yours?'"

Toph smacked his hand away. "Disguises. Isn't that your favorite shtick? We find a couple of soldiers off by their lonesome, "

Sokka paused. "I do like good disguises," he said, stroking his chin. Toph heard stubble rasp—he hadn't shaved since they left the north pole. "One problem, though. My skin's too dark to pass for a soldier. Unless we found a couple of firebenders with masks, they'd know I'm Water Tribe right away." He cocked his head. "You could probably pass, but never me."

Toph cracked her neck. "So I'll be the soldier returning from leave, and you'll be the Water Tribe heathen I picked up on the way. Big deal." She stretched her arms above her head. "It's not like we're gonna stop and shoot the breeze with these guys, Sokka. We'll just use the disguises to get inside, and then we'll knock heads once we find some info."

"Hmmph." Sokka's voice had a distinctly sulky tone when he spoke again. "I'm not a heathen. If anyone is, it's the Fire Nation. Stupid fire gods." He walked over to Appa, still muttering to himself. Shaking her head, Toph flopped back on the grass to finish off her apple.

***

Three days later, after a failed attempt to ambush a female soldier and steal her uniform, Toph and Sokka had decided on a different tack. After finding a nice cave to hide Appa, they waited in a clump of bushes beside a road for anyone to come by. "There," said Toph softly. She put her hand on Sokka's arm when he reached for his sword. "Let me handle this. It'll be faster."

Sokka scowled, but she had a point. He sighed and set his head down on his arms. Soon, he heard the carriage approach—drawn not by an ostrich horse, but by one of those disgusting mongoose dragons. Once the carriage was almost right next to their hiding spot, Toph slammed one fist down, then pulled it back up. Chunks of earth flowed in front of and behind the wheels of the carriage, holding in place. When the driver jumped down to see the problem, Toph repeated the gesture, sending rock up around his ankles. She grinned and nudged his shoulder. "Okay. Now you can go."

Sokka got up and walked over to the driver. Before the man had a chance to turn, Sokka clubbed him in the back of the head. Someone inside the carriage shrieked. Well, perfect. Sokka opened the carriage door. Inside, a Fire Nation noble held her young daughter against her chest—well, Toph was small. Sokka propped his elbow against the wall of the carriage. "Sorry, ladies. I'm gonna need to borrow some of your daughter's clothes."

***

"It's a good thing she wasn't a firebender, you know," said Toph. She hadn't stopped laughing since they'd sent the carriage owners running. Even now, as she stood inside an earth tent changing into the girl's clothes, she kept snickering now and again. "I heard the way she screamed. What'd she do?"

Sokka gingerly touched one of the scratches on his cheek. That had pissed him off; he had to admit, he had been a little rough when he tied up the girl and her mother and left them in the forest. With nails that sharp, he was pretty sure they could cut through their bindings sooner or later. Before they starved, anyway. "She jumped on me," he muttered. "Tried to claw my eyes out. Girls fight _dirty_."

"There's no such thing as fighting dirty," said Toph in her primmest voice. "There's only stupid tricks that get you killed and stupid tricks you can pull off." She clicked her tongue. After a moment, her tent sank into the ground; she held out a Fire Nation hairpiece to him. "You'll have to do my hair."

Sokka tilted his head to the side as he took the hairpiece. "You know, if this dress hadn't belonged to a Fire Nation brat, I'd say you looked good in it," he commented, pushing her down into a seated position. He took off her headband and started fingercombing her hair. (He hated to admit it, but he was actually pretty good at doing girls' hair—Katara had made him learn. At least topknots weren't that complicated.)

She did look good, too. The dress was an eye-smarting shade of red, but it fit her pretty well: it was sleeveless and high-collared, with long slits down the side. Toph slipped off her anklets and reached for the shoes. "I guess I'll actually have to wear these, huh," she muttered, her eyes narrowing in frustration. After a moment, she ran her fingers around the inside of the soft slipper and grinned.

"Ew," Sokka said, bringing her hair together into a single clump. "That's gotta be covered in sweat. Fire Nation sweat, no less."

Toph shrugged. "Sweat is sweat, no matter where you were born. And it was lucky the girl wasn't fond of heels—those are evil." She pulled the shoe on, so roughly the bottom broke off. "See? Problem solved."

Sokka wound her hair into a knot at the top of her head, then fixed it in place with the hairpiece. Toph fidgeted her toes back and forth, clearly on the verge of an insult. Good thing he was done. Sokka patted her shoulders. "Up. You're done now."

Smiling, Toph stood and pulled him to his feet. Then the two of them walked back to the carriage. Toph pushed one hand down against the ground, and the restraints around the wheel melted back into the earth again. Sokka sighed. "So I guess this makes me your driver, huh?"

Toph produced a fan from her belt and tapped his nose with the edge. "I was thinking slave, but whatever makes you comfortable. Now help me get in this thing."

***

When they got in sight of Ba Sing Se, Sokka made a dismayed noise, despite himself. The fields surrounding the wall had been burned to a crisp; there was nothing but scorched earth. And worse than that, there were huge chunks missing from the wall: long straight sections that suggested earthbender work, not destruction. "Guess we couldn't just break through the wall anyway," he whispered. He forced himself to assume a neutral expression as they followed the road to one of the gaps, but his hands were tight on the reins.

The guard eyed him suspiciously and rapped on the carriage door. "I'll need to see some identification, please." Toph stuck her hand out; Sokka had given her the former owner's passport. The guard made a surprised noise. "Oh, but ma'am, where's your mother?"

"My mother fell ill before we left. She chose to stay behind." Toph raised one eybrow. It never failed to impress Sokka how much disdain she could put into such a simple gesture. "Will that be a problem?"

"No, of course not, ma'am." But the guard cleared his throat, fidgeting. "Er, Miss, your driver—"

"Is a eunuch and a mute," said Toph, folding her hands on her lap. "My father bought him from a slave trader a few years back. I assure you, he won't be any trouble." Her tone suggested that implying any problems with her slave implied problems with her, which was _not_ acceptable. After a minute, the guard shrugged and waved them through with another bow.

"A eunuch?" Sokka hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. Toph just clucked and put her fan in front of her face, the picture of noble disdain.

***

Sokka was relieved to see that, while there were Fire Nation tents and makeshift stables everywhere, most of the fields outside the inner wall had been left untouched, and the workers in the fields still wore green, not red. Of course, they were probably slaves now, but at least their livelihood was untouched.

They ditched the carriage at the first stable they found; Sokka thrashed the lone hostler, who had looked a touch confused when a noble carriage pulled off the makeshift road into the mud. Sokka knocked on the carriage door. "All clear. Now we just have to find some place to hide out 'til nightfall, and then we can try breaking into one of those tents."

Toph allowed him to help her out of the carriage, still wearing that look of noble scorn. He handed her her normal gear, and Toph made an earth tent around herself. "I'll hold onto this," she said as she changed. "Hopefully, no one will notice us, and we can get out the same way we got in. It'll make a good disguise later, too."

They walked inside the stable. It was full of mongoose dragons and komodo rhinos; Sokka bit back a sneer. Stupid Fire Nation animals. Stupid Fire Nation women, for that matter. His cheek still stung. "With the hostler gone, we should be able to hide out in here until sunset," said Sokka softly. "Feel any empty stalls?" Toph pointed, and the two of them walked over and ducked inside.

Sokka scooted back against the wall; after a moment, Toph joined him, sitting just close enough so their sides brushed. He pulled his knees up against his chest. "You know, even my boomerang thinks this is a bad idea," he whispered, "and it _likes_ coming back to things."

Toph shoved him. "Shut up and try to get some sleep, Meathead. We've got time to kill."

***

Sokka did get a little rest, but it was fitful: he hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep since he'd heard about Suki, and, anyway, Toph's snores, which were loud anyway, turned deafening in the small space. Once a guard called that it was midnight, he nudged Toph. "Come on. That's our cue."

They slipped outside, keeping to the dark side of the stable. "Any of them look promising?" Toph asked, as Sokka turned to study the tents.

Sokka shrugged. "There's one with a big Fire Nation flag above it. I think that's our best bet. But there's still light inside." He paused, his eyes flicking over the small figure in front of the tent, and a sudden, feral grin crossed his face. "Can you move somebody without waking them up?" Toph cocked her head. "The guard outside the tent is asleep. I can take his uniform—it's the kind with a mask—and go in there and make a distraction. Then you can sneak up to the tent and wham!"

Toph's mouth twisted to the side. Sokka couldn't tell if she was frowning or trying not to laugh. "'And wham?'" she asked, her voice very dry.

Sokka put his hands on his hips. "You know, put a little earthbending hurt on 'em. Make the ground into quicksand, swallow their feet. Something fancy like that. I can take the intelligence, and we can ditch this place. They'll never know who it was."

Toph rubbed her jaw. Then she shrugged. "Sounds good to me. I _have_ been feeling the itch for some fancy earthbending lately." She slugged him; Sokka grimaced. "Just don't do anything stupid, Meathead. We gotta do this quietly."

Sokka rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Toph."

***

The guard part was easy. Toph crept forward until she could feel the guard, and then she gently lifted the slab of earth he was sitting on a few inches off the ground and called it to her. She covered him in dirt so Sokka could cover his mouth and nose until he passed out. Sokka had to admit, Toph's particular style of bending came in handy: she could do impressive things, but for the most part it wasn't all that noticeable.

He stripped the soldier, then tore a strip of cloth from the guy's tunic and tied his hands. He sniffed the chestpiece. "Blegh, this smells like fire flakes," Sokka muttered. "What is it with these people and spicy food?"

Toph shook her head. "This was your idea, genius." She sighed and sat down on the ground. "How long should I wait?"

Sokka shrugged. "Just give me five minutes," he said, putting on his helmet. He patted Toph's shoulder, and then he started for the tent, puffing out his chest and doing his best swagger. He thought he heard Toph snickering behind him, but he just stuck his nose in the air and kept walking. Good thing there wasn't anyone else around—either everyone was already asleep, or there was nothing here worth guarding. Hopefully it was the former. He didn't want to have to try this again; one eunuch joke was more than enough.

Sokka bent down and peeked under the crack between the tent flap and the earth. Inside, there was a large desk, a stack of weapons, and a large Fire Nation banner. Two men, a captain and a lieutenant, were discussing something in low voices. There were papers everywhere. "Bingo," Sokka whispered. He got to his feet and threw the tentflap open.

The captain jumped to his feet just as Sokka clutched his neck and fell to his knees. "What is it, private?" Sokka gagged and fell forward on his elbows, making the most horrible sounds he could. The captain and lieutenant exchanged confused glances. Slowly, the captain came toward him. Once he had his back turned, the earth swallowed the lieutenant before he could even cry out. Sokka was glad the faceplate hid his grin—that would give everything again.

The captain knelt beside him. "Private? Can you hear me?" Sokka grabbed his club and whipped his arm forward, knocking the captain's feet out from under him. Before he could do anything, the earth swallowed him, too.

Sokka stuck his head out of the tent and skimmed the ground until he spotted a pair of eyes, just above level. "Good work, Toph," he whispered. "I'll meet you back at the carriage." A thumb appeared, just for a moment, and then the eyes vanished. Sokka turned to the desk and started stuffing papers down the front of his chestpiece.

He almost had them all when the tentflap opened again. Sokka froze, fearing the captain and lieutenant had somehow returned from wherever Toph had sent them, but it was just another private. "Uh... where did Captain Shang go?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Sokka cleared his throat, certain the private would hear something in his voice that would give him away. "Uh, you know. He and the, uh, lieutenant had some important... Fire Nation-y stuff to take care of. There was an, uh, urgent message about the state of the outer wall. They had to go out and—take a look! Yeah! Right away!"

The private blinked. "In the dark?"

Sokka crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look scornful even though he had never been more nervous. "We're _Fire Nation_, man. You know. We, uh... we laugh in the face of darkness."

The private's face brightened up. "Yeah. Yeah, you know, you're right!" After a second, he shrugged. "Well, I was supposed to give the captain this," he drew a scroll from inside his cloak, "but..." He shrugged again. Then he looked at Sokka again. "Could you do it? I really just want to go to bed."

Sokka nodded. "Sure. Anything for a fellow Fire Nation... guy." He held out his hand, and the private passed him the message. The private waved at him and ducked back out of the tent. Once he was gone, Sokka let out a deep breath and slumped against the desk. "That was _way_ too close."

***

Toph was waiting for him back by the carriage. She was wearing the red dress again, but her hair was only in a messy ponytail, and she was slouching in a most unladly like fashion. "Did you get anything?" she whispered as Sokka pulled off the uniform and stuffed it inside the carriage.

"I don't know yet," he said, setting the papers on top of the chestpiece. "I didn't have time to really take a look." He lifted his head and glanced around, even though Toph would know before him if anyone was coming. "Okay, let's get out of here. We don't want to press our luck any more than we already have."

"But pressing our luck is the Team Avatar way of life," said Toph, clasping her hands under her chin. "How would I fill my time if we didn't attempt stupid, life-threatening things every couple weeks or so? I'd have to take up knitting! And I'm really bad at knitting. Trust me."

Shaking his head, Sokka helped her into the carriage and hopped up front.

***

They used a different checkpoint to leave the city and got out with little trouble. After returning to the cave where Appa was cooling his six heels, they got a little rest, and then Sokka started sorting through the papers. Most of it, to his dismay, was useless. It was all just reports of unrest within Ba Sing Se—little things, nothing he and Toph could use to cause more trouble. Finally, he got to the message the private had given him. As he read, his eyes got wider and wider, and so did his grin.

"What is it?" Toph asked, lifting her head. "Your heart's going really fast all of a sudden."

"Toph, do you have any idea what this is?" he asked, sticking the parchment in front of her face. Toph just stared at him. "Oh. Sorry." Sokka cleared his throat and quickly backed out of reach before she could hit him—her punches _hurt_. "Um. It's a schedule for all the supply movements here in the northern Earth Kingdom." He scowled as he read the letter again. "Excuse me, 'the colonies.'"

Toph cocked her head to the side. "Excuse me for not being excited. How does that help us, exactly? I thought we were looking for troop info."

Sokka shook his head and smacked the parchment. "This is just as good. Haven't you ever heard that saying? 'An army marches on his stomach.' It's true! With this, we can go around wrecking their supply chain. I know all the villages around here will do their best to keep the Fire Nation from getting any of their food, too. We can cripple them, Toph!"

Toph stroked her chin. "Well, it doesn't sound as much fun as attacking battalions, but it _does_ seem like there's a lot less chance of us dying this way. And dying would suck." After another moment of consideration, she nodded. "Okay. Where do we start?"

Sokka grinned and bent over the parchment again. Things always looked a lot brighter with a plan.

(...yeah. I like reviews. They make me smile.)


	3. Touch

Disclaimer: "An ounce of blood is thicker than a pound of friendship."

(An: ...An unfortunate thing happens when I write action-y scenes: logic must be discarded. In this case, though, there's actually a reason, one that will eventually lead to Tokka. Bear with me, please. Also, someone informed me a while after writing this story that Gaoling is nowhere near where I thought it was. I just assumed Toph went to the Cave of Two Lovers for her badgermole meeting. I made too many references to it to feel like changing it. I'm lazy. Formatting issues fixed! I fail, I know.)

Toph couldn't see fire. She could feel the destruction it wreaked on buildings, feel her skin stretch and crack when she got too close, hear it devour everything in its path, but she could never _see_ it, and that left her at a distinct disadvantage. And it wasn't one she could throw a sarcatic comment at; unchecked fire was one of the few things Toph bowed to. But still she came running the second she realized her parents' house was burning.

The heat on her face was the only way she learned her house was on fire. There was no one around to tell her: Sokka and the rest of their fighters were back in the city, fighting off a battalion that had attacked a day early. She'd helped, yes, but once she was sure they had things under control, she came running home.

She broke through the stone wall that divided her parents' estate from the city. Everything in her told her she should run away, not toward—someone else, someone who saw with eyes, not their feet, could go inside, take care of things. And then she heard her mother scream, and all her thoughts and fourteen-odd years of ill will vanished like water off hot stone.

"Mom! Mom, I'm coming!" Toph yelled. She only felt the flames and smelled smoke when she got to the edge of her house—that meant the fire was still small, right? She could go inside. She came to the wall of her house and touched the stone. The roof was shuddering, but other than that she could tell nothing about the state of her home. Didn't matter. Toph punched a hole in the wall, just large enough for herself, and ran inside. "Mom! Dad! I'm here!"

Her panic almost swallowed her when she heard no response, but she forced herself to calm down, find her center. She shifted into a deeper stance and sent her sight out as far as it would go. What did she feel? The wooden walls were shaking; somewhere in the distance, walls collapsed. The main fire was still far away, to the east—her parents' house was huge, after all.

There! Movement, where the smoke came from!

Toph turned and ran without thinking. It didn't matter what happened to her—she would not let her parents die, not before they could see what she had become. Not before she could make up for leaving them.

O-o-O-o-O

Just a day ago, she'd been in this house for the first time in almost two years. She'd even dressed as a proper Earth Kingdom lady of breeding; getting her parents to listen would be hard enough without her mother commenting about how she'd lost all sense of propriety.

Still, though, she hesitated at the front gate. A servant had gone in the house to announce her and Sokka already, and she knew where her parents would be waiting for her, but... she couldn't. Then Sokka's arm came around her shoulders, his callused fingers rasping against the silk. "Please don't say you're nervous," he said softly.

Toph reached over and clenched her fingers around his rough cloth belt. He'd taken to wearing an Earth Kingdom uniform; it was less conspicuous than his warrior's garb. Toph couldn't tell the difference, of course. Colors meant nothing to her fingers. "...I'm not nervous," she said after a moment. Her voice was too weak. She cleared her throat and threw her head back—she was a Bei Fong, not some gawping barefoot commoner! When she was confident she could speak in her usual brassy tone, she continued. "I'm just worried you'll make an ass of yourself in front of my parents. Yes, you're supposed to be a soldier, but even _they_ have better manners than you do."

Sokka snorted. "Whatever you say, Toph." He paused, tilting his head toward her. "...What are you going to tell them?"

Toph set her jaw. "I'm not telling them anything. This meeting is strictly business. The only reason I even_came_ was to make sure they'd let you in." She turned her face toward the ground. Her fancy slippers were bottomless, even though she hardly needed her earth sight to know her way around grounds she'd been exploring since she was old enough to crawl. "...If they want to know what I've been doing, they have to ask me. _Me._ Toph, the greatest earthbender ever—not Toph, their little wilting lily." Scowling, she tugged at the hem of one of her sleeves.

"All right." Sokka's voice could be infuriatingly understanding sometimes. Their time spent wandering the Earth Kingdom seemed to have made less of an idiot of him, at least where she was concerned. He still made a fool of himself around every other girl. Which pleased her, but she'd die before admitting that. "Come on, Madam Earthbender. Your parents are expecting us."

Toph sighed and let him guide her up the front walk. Ordinarily, she never would have allowed such a thing—she only let him coddle her when she couldn't see—but... she was afraid that if she kept standing there, she would admit the real reason she was waiting. That she didn't hesitate because she was afraid, but because she wished with all her heart that her parents would care enough about her to break the rules of engagement and come running as soon as they heard her name.

O-o-O-o-O

Sokka and Toph usually fought back-to-back. This was a good stance not only because it meant both of them could look out for each other, but because it meant that Sokka always knew where she was. It was so easy to lose track of her. She was fourteen now, but she'd barely grown at all, and her small body could vanish among the sea of green-dressed refugees _so quickly_...

That night, he couldn't decide what to feel guilty about: that he'd allowed himself to lose track of her, or that he cared more about her safety than the town's. He knew she could handle herself—she was the one who saved the day more often than not, after all. His work was most pre- and post-battle; Toph was the one who really shone in the heat of things.

But... she was all he had left. The only thing of their old life, the only scrap of hope he allowed in this broken world. And he cared about her more than he'd ever admitted to himself.

He broke away from the pack of their ragtag soldiers—they could handle themselves. He and Toph had turned them from a motley group of earthbenders, soldiers, and people with grudges to a real fighting force. He had to let them stand on their own sooner or later, and later could be the difference between finding Toph alive and finding Toph dead.

Not that he thought for a second she could be dead. She was too strong for that. But all the same—he needed to see her.

He ran out into the empty main street of the city... and his heart dropped into his stomach. The Bei Fong estate was burning. "No," he whispered. "No, she wouldn't!" The only place Toph could not handle herself was in the midst of fire. Her earthsight could tell her when a building would collapse, but it couldn't warn her of a flare-up, couldn't tell her if there was fire in a room if the door wasn't hot.

But he knew she'd be there anyway. He'd do the same for his father, even if they'd had the same tainted history. And it seemed that he couldn't run fast enough.

O-o-O-o-O

Yesterday, the Bei Fong estate had seemed like a bastion of sanity. The town was in a panic. They'd heard the news of an approaching Fire Nation army, and no one could calm down enough to do anything about it. If the Bei Fongs had learned of this—and doubtless they had, judging by the heavy spears their guards carried nowadays—they didn't seem at all bothered.

Instead, Toph's father and mother were waiting for them in their reception room, filled with fancy vases and plants. Sokka had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from speaking. Ozai's assault during the passage of Sozin's comet had left thousands without homes or even workable land, but these two were still rich as the king. Richer, considering that the Earth King had been spirited away to a secret location that was incomparably defendable but lacked the comforts he was used to.

There was one surprising change: instead of the dais, Toph's parents were sitting on silk mats. A tea service was set out in front of them; a butler stood a respectful distance from them, waiting for any sign from Toph's father. Only the too-tight grip Toph's mother had on his hand betrayed any feeling at all. Sokka bit back a scowl. She was their _daughter_. Couldn't they dismiss noble graces for two seconds?

If it bothered Toph, she made no sign of it. Rather, she bowed low—too low for family meetings. Sokka copied her, going a few inches lower. He was, after all, just a common Earth Kingdom soldier. He doubted the Bei Fongs would recognize him. When Toph straightened up, her face was pleasant but blank. "Hello, Mother, Father." She clasped her hands in front of herself. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

The Bei Fongs exchanged a glance that betrayed well-hidden confusion. After a moment, Toph's father got to his feet. "Toph, dear, why all the formality? Come, sit. Tell us what you've come here for."

Toph's mother studied her daughter's face with such an earnest expression that Sokka almost forgave her for trying to stifle such a strong, vibrant spirit. "Please say you've finally decided to come home, darling. Come here and let me see you." She held out her arms, clearly expecting Toph to obey, but Toph just smiled blandly and sat down on the mats opposite her parents.

"I think I'd like some tea, please," she said in that soft, too-high voice she used for her weak little blind girl act. Sokka wanted to touch her somehow, show some measure of support, but he didn't want to make her parents suspicious. Instead, he just sat down—perhaps a touch too close for polite society, but her parents didn't seem to notice.

The butler stepped over and poured her a cup. As Toph closed her fingers around it, the butler murmured, "It's a pleasure to have you back, Miss Bei Fong."

Toph wrinkled her nose, as though the tea smelled bad—although Sokka had long ago learned that strongly brewed jasmine, the kind in the cup, was her favorite. She took a sip before speaking; her fingers clutched the cup too tightly. But when she lifted her head, her face was smooth. He really did envy her talent for this. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Wei, but I'm not staying."

Her mother made a soft noise of dismay. Her father frowned, but, slowly, he sat back down on the mat and took his wife's hand again. "Please, Toph." His voice was soft, conciliatory. "What is this about?"

Toph took another drink. Sokka couldn't tell if she was drawing this out to irritate or worry her parents, or if she just needed a moment to get her feelings under control. Knowing her, it was probably both. But her voice was pleasant, like she was discussing cherry blossoms instead of matters of war. "I wished to ask you a favor, Father. The Fire Nation is planning a raid on the city—they want to conquer the port. Sokka and I," she nodded at him, "have a plan to deal with them, but we want to make sure the people of the city are safe." She paused. Her fingers trembled, just for an instant. "We want to make sure _you_ are safe."

Her father opened his mouth, but Toph took one hand from the cup and gestured for silence. When he relaxed, she continued. "We have an elaborate escape tunnel beneath the estate—it leads to the Cave of Two Lovers, doesn't it?" Toph's father drew in a sharp breath. "Don't look so surprised, Father. I _am_ an earthbender, after all." Her voice held only a hint of her usual pride. "I wish to request that you and Mother take the tunnel yourselves, then allow the rest of the village to head to the caves through it."

But Toph's father's face had turned to stone the moment she mentioned their escape. During their journey, Sokka had often wondered how such dull nobles had turned out someone as amazing as Toph, but maybe there was something of his daughter in him after all. "Absolutely not." Toph opened her mouth, but her father slammed his fist down on the floor. "The people are free to use our tunnels—we understand the... urgency. Our world is a bleak place these days. But some things are not negotiable."

"What are you talking about?" Toph demanded. The act dropped; she was using her normal voice again. Sokka grinned a little, despite his best efforts—he loved seeing her like this. "You can't stay here! They won't hesitate to kill you just because we're Bei Fongs!"

Toph's father shook his head again, squeezing his wife's thin fingers. "No, they will not. But the fact remains: we _are_ Bei Fongs. And if we flee before them, we are letting them win. That will never happen, not as long as I or any of my family has breath in our bodies." Toph's jaw dropped; Sokka couldn't tell if she was impressed or pissed. Toph's father took a sip of tea as though what he'd said was nothing extraordinary.

Her mother reached across the table to touch Toph's knee. She flinched away, but her mother pretended she hadn't. "Don't gawp like that, dear. It's nothing surprising—your father used to be a lieutenant, you know." She brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face. "In a world like this, we have nothing but our pride. If we start running, when will we ever stop? We must make a stand."

Toph frowned. Sokka still couldn't read her. Was she angry? Was she worried? Then, slowly, she got to her feet. "I'd like to tell you that you're both being idiots," she said softly. Her parents looked shocked, but Toph continued before they could protest. "But I would do the same thing if I were still living here, so I have to respect that." She bowed again. "Sokka and I will bring the people once night falls."

O-o-O-o-O

Why did the Bei Fong estate have to be so fucking _huge_? What did they need all this space for? It'd been a job just climbing over the wall—sometimes, Water Tribe pride or not, Sokka really wished he was an earthbender—but how in Tui's name was he supposed to find Toph in this giant fricking house?

Sokka undid his cloak and soaked it in a fountain. The fire hadn't spread to this side of the house yet, but there was no reason not to be prepared. "Toph!" he yelled as he ran through the front door. He doubted she'd hear him, but he had to try anyway. His heart was beating way too fast—he had to feel like he was doing _something_ or he'd die of fright.

Maybe she was by the tunnel. They'd already gotten most of the people out through the tunnel when a scout came shouting of Fire Nation troops, but her parents hadn't budged. But where was the goddamn tunnel?

Screams from the east. Please, please, _please_ let that not be a death scream. It wasn't Toph's voice, but even after living his whole life in a war, Sokka still felt responsible for every death he witnessed. The fire was already devouring that part of the house—what if Toph—

Sokka started running. Just as he reached someplace he recognized—the hallway that ended in Toph's parents' bedroom—the roof in front of him collapsed.

O-o-O-o-O

"Toph! Toph!" Her father's voice. "Get out of here!" Metal met metal as Toph rounded the corner to her parents' bedroom. Her father held a heavy _guan dao_ against a Fire Nation soldier. Toph slammed her foot into the ground, and the soldier fell back. Before Toph could crush him, her father stabbed him. "Toph! It's not safe!"

Toph ran over to her father's side. "I'm not leaving without you," she snapped, gritting her teeth, "and you are going in that tunnel with me if I have to knock you out and drag you." Her father made a soft noise, but then the roof above them gave a great groan. "There's no time for negotiation, Dad! The roof's gonna go any second—I can feel it!"

And then it did. Toph stomped her feet and brought her hands together, creating an earth tent that—for the moment—protected them from the worst of it. "Come on, you have to go!" Before he could protest again, Toph slammed her foot down, sending a wave of earth that knocked her father over and down the tunnel. Then she sealed it. If there was anyone else coming, they wouldn't get out this way anyhow.

The hallway outside was blocked off, but rubble had never been an obstacle for Toph. She shoved it out of the way using the walls of her parents' bedroom, and then she felt someone move, down at the end of the hallway. "Sokka?" Her voice came out hoarse, both from the screaming and all the smoke.

"Toph!" Sokka yelled back. "Just hang on! I'll be there in a second!" She felt him try to budge more of the wreckage of the room. Shaking her head—for somebody who always had some genius idea, he was still an idiot—Toph brought her hands in front of her face and down. The rubble sank into a cavern in the earth. Toph shoved one hand forward, making a narrow bridge.

It was supposed to be for herself, but before she could move, Sokka started across it at a run. He hugged her, so tightly she squeaked, and lifted her off the ground. He was still almost a foot taller than her. "Sokka, I can't see!" she yelped.

She felt him shake his head. "Doesn't matter. I know the way out." He started to run again. Toph had no idea which way he was going; she threw her arms around his neck and held on. She hated being dependent on anyone, but she knew he would take her someplace safe.

The air got cooler as Sokka ran, although Toph could still hear the house groaning around them. The house was made to withstand earthquakes and monsoons, not fires; all the bamboo and silk would burn like nothing else. At least her parents were safe. Toph buried her face in Sokka's chest, searching for the wild hammering of his heart.

She felt it when they got outside—the night air tasted different. He ran for a few more feet, and then he slowly set her down on cool grass. "Sorry," he said softly, running one hand over her hair. "I was just... worried." Toph punched him. "Ow!"

"You're a _dumbass_ is what you are! You could have gotten us both killed!" she snapped, but it was more pride talking than anything. Both of them knew that that had been the easiest way for both of them to escape. Toph would probably have had to knock the whole house down otherwise. Biting her lip, she found the edge of his shirt and pulled him down on the grass beside her. This time, she hugged him. "But thank you anyway." Sokka started laughing: deep belly-laughs that were sincere, not hysterical. Toph frowned. "I'll punch you again, you know."

Sokka cleared his throat. "I know you will." He laughed again, just a little. "It's just... you were right. That _was_ stupid." He rubbed his hand over her back in little circles. His voice, when he spoke, was strangely... slow, like he was talking more to himself than her. "But I couldn't... help myself."

Toph sighed, relaxing against him. She couldn't stay mad at him—she would have done the same thing, and he was all she had now. "Yeah, okay, Meathead." She got up and held her hand out to him. Sokka's fingers closed over hers, warm and familiar. "Come on, the fight's not over yet."

(That's that. The next chapter is more about Toph's family issues.)


	4. Invisible

Disclaimer: "Ah am truly alone against zis tide of evil."

(An: I like to imagine Lao, Toph's father, as a Crouching Tiger, Hidden Badass. Also, I needed some reason for him to suck less than he did in "The Blind Bandit." So... that's why he's a soldier.)

Two days after the attack on Toph's hometown, the entire group agreed it was better to leave the port for now and move on to another city worth defending. Once the Fire Nation had time to settle in, they'd get sloppy, and then it would be safe to attack.

To Sokka's surprise, Toph didn't grumble. She always conceded to his plans eventually—she was a brilliant fighter and commander, but she had no hand for strategy, and she knew it—but whenever they had to abandon a former target, she always reminded him that their job was to drive off the Fire Nation, not let them have the pick of the Earth Kingdom. But this time, Toph just shrugged. "Whatever you think is best, Sokka," she said, her face unreadable.

Sokka waited until they were alone to bring it up. "You know, when I mentioned we should leave, I was waiting for you to punch me," he commented as he spread his bedroll out.

Toph snorted. "So that's why you kept flinching. Jeeze, Snoozles." She sat down in front of the fire, her head cocked toward him. "You're the one who's always saying we've got to put forth a united front or nobody will ever listen to us." She jabbed a finger in his direction, imitating his 'commander' voice. Badly. "'Being the Avatar's friends will only get us so far, you know!'"

Sokka scowled. Part of the trouble with traveling with a blind girl was that she remembered everything he said, no matter how trivial. After a minute, he sighed. "So you're really okay with it? I mean... this was your home."

"Sokka, my home burned to the ground." Her voice was no more brusque than usual, but she had a dark look on her face. "I was never allowed into the city, remember? I had to sneak out of my house to see anything." She wiggled her toes. "And even that house wasn't really my home." She paused, like she was considering saying something else, and then she shook her head. "I don't care about this place, any more than I care about the other cities we've had to give up." She stretched out on the ground. "So where are we headed next?"

Well, in for a copper piece, in for a silver piece. If it was "touchy subject" time, he might as well address the other komodo rhino in the room. "...I was thinking we'd head over to the Cave of Two Lovers. You know, check on our people there."

Toph's mouth twisted to the side; she drummed her fingers on the ground. "We sent some of our people with them specifically so we wouldn't have to go after them, Sokka," she said after a minute. "They know the safe villages—they'll find places for everybody."

Sokka leaned toward her. "Yeah, but... what about your parents?"

Toph stiffened. Then, slowly, she relaxed, and her face became stone as much as the ground she was sitting on. "What _about_ my parents?" Her voice threatened punches and possibly a fight, but Sokka just moved closer to her. This was important, no matter how much she tried to pretend it wasn't. "They'll find some other noble family to take them in in their time of need, call on the people who owe them debts. Before we know it, they'll be rebuilding their house, Fire Nation or no Fire Nation."

Sokka tapped a rhythm on his knee. He and Toph had never really been good about talking about intimate things. Usually, they avoided it. They knew how they felt about each other; what else needed saying? But that fire... it had made him think. He could have lost Toph—or Toph could have lost her parents. This needed to be finished.

But how was he supposed to tell her that so she'd actually listen to him?

Sokka sighed. "Look, Toph, don't you want to see your parents? This is probably the only chance we'll get—we need to head north again, check on things around Ba Sing Se."

Toph's frown deepened, but in confusion, not frustration. "Right," she said. "That's why we can't head further south just so I can work out my family issues." She paused, and the threat came back into her voice. "_You're_ the one who's always saying this is bigger than us. Either it is, or it isn't."

Dammit! Sokka scooted closer until their hips touched. Toph's brow furrowed, and she pulled her knees up to her chest, but she didn't move away. "...Toph, they're your _parents_. I know you pretend like you don't care, but you do. I mean, you ran into a burning building for them."

Toph flinched. Then she shoved him away and got to her feet. "Cripes, Sokka!" she snapped, her hands clenching and unclenching at her hips. "When did you get all touchy-feely? You sound like Katara!"

Sokka rubbed the back of his neck. "I feel like I should be offended by that, but I'm not sure why."

Toph pointed a finger in his direction, her whole body quivering with rage. "Don't make me kick your butt, Sokka. I know I'll regret it later, but right now it would be so—damn—_satisfying_."

Okay, it was officially time to back off. Toph never threatened a butt-kicking without reason. Sokka held up his hands. "Okay, okay. If you don't want to talk to them, you don't want to talk to them. I'm sorry."

"You're damn right you are." Toph crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the dirt like it had done her a great personal wrong.

Sokka watched her for a moment, and then he sighed. There was nothing for it now but to wait for her to cool off—he'd pushed her too far. He got up and unpacked their cooking stuff. Arguments always made him hungry.

O-o-O-o-O

Toph regretted her words almost as soon as they were out of her mouth. They were a lie. A lie to save her pride, maybe—that was the only kind she put up with—but... she didn't lie to Sokka. She didn't always tell him the truth, perhaps, but that wasn't lying, that was self-defense.

She accepted the food he made in silence. Let him think it was anger. Really, she was trying to think how to tell him and still save face. She'd never explained this to anybody, least of all him—she'd never thought she would have to.

But she never thought she'd do something like that for her parents, either, had she? She'd pretended that she didn't care so long that she'd started believing it herself. And yet when they were in danger, she crumbled like shale in an earthquake.

As usual when they fought, Sokka gave her her space. He knew she never really meant it when she snapped at him. She could let this drop, if she wanted. He wouldn't press the issue. They'd go to bed, and in the morning everything would be fine.

Except it wouldn't, because he deserved the truth. She loved him. And if you loved somebody, you weren't supposed to be half-assed about it.

When Sokka stretched out in his bedroll and turned away from the slight heat of the dead fire, Toph cocked her head toward him, studying him. His body language seemed... remarkably calm. Both of them were usually steamed when they fought, but Sokka... Sokka just seemed sad. Like he already knew what she didn't have the guts to tell him.

Biting her lip, Toph slowly moved over to his side of the fire, so he was behind her. "Sokka?" He made a vague noise that meant he was listening but not very interested, although she felt his whole body tense. "I want to see them." Toph hid her face in her knees and didn't say anything else for a long while. Then, finally, she sighed. "More than anything. But I want... I want them to see me, too, and I know they won't. They aren't like you." She blushed, although she managed to keep it out of her voice. "You know why I don't care about depending on you when I can't see?"

Sokka rolled over so he faced her back. Even though her back was turned—and there probably wasn't enough light for him to see her anyway—Toph pressed her warm cheeks against her breeches. "I always figured it was because you didn't want Aang to get the wrong idea." He was joking, so Toph ignored it. At least he wasn't upset.

Toph shook her head and cleared her throat. "Even when I'm weak and can't see or bend, you... you still remember what I'm capable of. You might forget I'm blind and make stupid jokes and smell like meat all the time, but you always... you always see me at my best, even when I'm not." She paused for a second to study what she could see of him, but the blankets muffled the vibrations, turning him blurry. He wasn't tense, at least. Toph sighed. "...When my parents look at me, they just see these eyes. Even when my father saw what I was capable of, he still thought I couldn't do anything. I'm not me to them, and I never will be."

Her eyes stung suddenly; she swallowed hard until the feeling passed and she could speak without betraying herself. "If I talked to them, we'd just fight, and that would only make things worse. Things aren't... good, but they could be so much worse. You know what I mean?"

Sokka moved suddenly. Toph couldn't tell the details until he moved onto the bare ground, and by then it was too late to move away. He hugged her from behind, his face warm on the back of her neck. Toph stiffened, and then, slowly, she let herself relax against him. Pretending she didn't want his comfort was just another form of lying—this issue was the only thing in her life that really got to her. Other people were allowed to misinterpret her, to need to have the truth beaten into them, but... they were her _parents_. Weren't they supposed to know her better than anyone else?

Sokka rubbed her shoulders absently. Then he started snickering. Toph scowled and raised one hand in warning of a possible beating. "I'm not laughing about you, I promise," he said, letting go of her. "It's just... you're right. I _am_ getting like Katara. Pretty soon I'll be crying all the time and making preachy speeches about hope."

Toph shrugged. "That's not really a bad thing—the hugging, anyway. If you start making speeches, I'll feed you to the badgermoles." She paused. "...I miss Sugar Queen. She always made things better, even if she couldn't keep her nose out of anyone's business."

"You got that right." Sokka put an arm around her again; Toph welcomed his warmth.

O-o-O-o-O

After that, Sokka let the matter drop, and he didn't think about it again until about a week later. Their group was heading north again; they were going to skirt the Si Wong desert and investigate the numerous small cities that surrounded Ba Sing Se now that their force was big enough to deal with the Fire Nation settlements there.

He was studying some stolen intelligence from a recent raid when a catowl cried in the distance—not a real one. Sokka lifted his head. That was the signal they had given the members of their group who had left with the refugees. Toph was off training with the earthbender groups, so he got to his feet and mimicked the noise. After a few minutes, a group of a dozen or so soldiers melted out of the forest. A few were bandaged—burns, no doubt—but for the most part, they looked all right. Sokka nodded at the leader, an older man named Sota. "Everything go all right?"

Sota nodded. "We got everyone out before they set the house on fire, and a city right by the cave said they'd take in the refugees. Kito stayed behind to make sure everyone got settled in. We didn't run into any trouble on the way here."

Sokka nodded to dismiss them, although he was counting the soldiers again. If one of them had stayed behind, then why was he still counting the right number? He didn't ask Sota. The bulk of the group had already left, doubtless to get food. One man lingered, however. He was dressed in an ill-fitting Earth Kingdom uniform; from this distance, Sokka couldn't recognize him. Slowly, the man walked over—it was Toph's father.

Sokka blinked. His confusion only got worse as the man stiffly dropped to one knee. "I was told you're the commander around here," said Toph's father, keeping his eyes on the ground.

Sokka rubbed the back of his neck. He and Toph had never claimed official titles; though they made all the ultimate decisions, their group was a democracy, not an oligarchy. "Uh... sort of, yeah." He cleared his throat. "Please, get up. We don't really... do that stuff."

Toph's father got to his feet. His face was unreadable, although Sokka could tell he wasn't happy to submit himself like this. Under one arm he held a helmet; on his back, he had a large, two-handed sword. "I've come to join you." He must have taken Sokka's blank look for disbelief, not confusion. "As my wife mentioned the other day, I used to be a lieutenant. I got there by blood and sweat, not noble privilege. I know how to fight."

Sokka grinned nervously. "Uh, that—that's great! We don't actually have that many real soldiers around here. Except, you know, we have soldiers, but not soldier-soldiers. What I mean is—" Toph's father quirked a brow. Sokka straightened up and cleared his throat. He was a commander speaking to a recruit, not Sokka speaking to his best friend's intimidating father. "We're a guerilla force, not a formal military. We don't have enough people for... ranks and stuff. We just strike wherever we think it'll do the most damage, then move on."

Toph's father nodded. "A good strategy, and one much better suited to the world we live in than formal war." He held out one hand, and Sokka shook it. "I'd still like to offer you my aid, if you'll accept it." His eyes darkened. "The... incident a few days ago has convinced me that this is not something we can stand and resist as we have done in the past. Different action is required. Your plan sounds like the right way."

Sokka nodded, as awkwardly as he was grinning. This was just surreal. "Uh, all right. That's... that's good." He tilted his head back, turning his mind to thoughts of strategy instead of how damn weird this was.

They could use a formal military man, actually. Sokka knew basic weapon drills, and there was no question their earthbenders were awesome, but there were some Earth Kingdom weapons Sokka had never heard of, and neither he nor Toph knew how to handle crossbows. Some of their group could shoot long or short bows, but crossbows were the best option against foes in armor. Thinking of that instead of how important the Bei Fong family was helped Sokka put his head in the right place. "Walk with me." He jerked his head in the direction of the camp proper.

Toph's father obeyed, and he didn't even seem all that sullen about it. "My name is Lao, by the way," he said softly. He took his helmet and ran his hand around the edges. "...You came with my daughter the other day. I didn't realize you were anyone so important as one of the Avatar's companions."

Sokka shrugged, suddenly nervous again. "Uh, yeah." He avoided Lao's eyes. "She and I run this thing together. Er. Not together-together. We just... share command. Yeah." He was blushing. Why the _fuck_ was he blushing?

Time to change the subject and hope to Tui and La that Toph didn't recognize her father's footsteps before Sokka got a chance to explain. He grabbed one of the other soldiers and started explaining how everything began.

(Yes, Sokka, why _are_ you blushing?)


	5. Unresolved

Disclaimer: "Praying it all will be new And living like it all depends on you"

(An: The formatting problems with the last few chapters made me remember why I hate FFN and haven't posted here in forever. For those of you who kindly pointed it out, I have fixed it.)

Toph's father was attentive; he listened with interest to everything Sokka had to say and treated the other soldiers with respect, not noble condescension. He asked intelligent questions and made good suggestions. Good thing he didn't seem to notice how much Sokka wished he had stayed with his wife (who had chosen herbal healing as her ladylike pursuit and was putting her skills to use with the other refugees).

At least he didn't ask about Toph, though Sokka could see the question in his eyes until he was finally able to pass Lao off to Sota so they could check his gear.

Sokka didn't exactly flee, but he walked a lot faster than usual. Toph and her earthbending students were training in a flat plain half a mile away; Sokka jogged the whole distance, his heart beating much faster than the exercise warranted. When he got there, Toph was sitting on a platform of earth, her head cocked while her students punched the sand. She smiled when she felt him approach and turned his way. "Hey, Snoozles!" She crossed her legs and gestured with one hand, raising her platform so they were level with each other. "What's up?"

Sokka grimaced. "Uh, Toph, could I talk to you for a second?" Toph frowned. She didn't like secrets; their general philosophy was that anything they had to say to each other could be said in front of their group or not at all. "It's, uh... it's touchy, that's all."

"What's got your panties in a twist, Meathead?" Toph asked, slipping off her platform. She pointed at one of her students. "Don't even _think_ about stopping, Yoon, or we'll use you for target practice later!" The student squeaked. Satisfied, Toph turned to Sokka again. After a second, she shrugged and let him lead her out of earshot.

Sokka just looked at her for a minute. It was one thing to talk to her about personal stuff at night. Then, they were just Toph and Sokka, and anything was fair game. But this... this was a matter for Toph and Sokka the awesome leaders, not Toph and Sokka the best friends. Toph's eyes narrowed. Crap. Better just spit it out. "Toph-your-dad-came-to-join-the-group-and-he's-actually-really-good-so-I-had-to-let-him—"

Toph punched his shoulder. "Jeez, Meathead, take a breath, would you?" Her voice was light, but her expression was troubled. After a minute, she crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from him. "...It's really him?"

Sokka nodded, trying to puzzle out her feelings from the set of her shoulders. He couldn't tell if she was pissed or hurt. "Yeah. Sota brought him. And he knows how to make field camps and clean tack and take care of ostrich horses and all this _stuff_, Toph! We... we need him."

Toph turned back to him. Her face was stone again, but this time it was just to hide her feelings, not because she was angry. She poked his chest. "I know that. My dad's a good fighter—he retired with honors when he married my mom. He'll make a good member of her group." A scowl crossed her face. "I know that. But that does _not_ mean I am going to speak to him, or acknowledge him at all. You deal with the soldiers. I deal with the benders, and he's not one—I got this from my grandmother. As far as I'm concerned, he's just another recruit. A good one, maybe, but nobody important to me."

Crap. On the one hand, her practical streak was handy as hell sometimes. Unlike most people he knew, Toph would never let personal feelings get in the way of whatever action made the most sense. On the other... how could she be so _cold-blooded_? Sokka sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "All right. Whatever." He glanced at the students—who were still obediently punching the sand—and pulled Toph a little further away, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Toph, he's still your dad, okay? Try... try not to be too mean to him. I could tell this was hard for him, and we really could use his help."

Toph set her jaw. "I won't treat him any differently than I do anyone else." She brushed her hair away from her eyes. "If he wants to talk to me as a commander, I'll treat him like a soldier. If he wants to talk to me as Toph... he has to do it after hours. Like anyone else would."

That was the best promise he would get. Sokka patted her shoulder, feeling awkward, and then he headed back to camp.

O-o-O-o-O

Though she pretended indifference until long after Sokka was gone, Toph had to dismiss her students early so she could think. She knew keeping her promise would be a lot more difficult than she had made it seem. Sokka was used to the explosive side of her temper, the part of her heart that flared like sparkrocks when anyone _dared_ suggest she couldn't do something by herself (even when she couldn't).

But there was a different kind of anger hidden deep inside herself, like the heart of a mountain; invisible but endless and indefatigable, stronger than anything else. She reserved that anger for two things: the Fire Nation, who had taken first her country and then one of her best friends; and her parents, who had been given every opportunity understand her and still refused.

That kind of anger could be pushed back—it could even be used—but she could not ignore it. How was she supposed to keep a civil tongue in her head while she felt that?

Toph shook her head. She _would_, and that was all there was to it; her father the fighter had to be separate from her father the bastard in her mind. Sooner or later, her father would come to her seeking a private chat, and then that anger would get its release.

O-o-O-o-O

To Sokka's surprise, Toph was downright civil to her father. She called him "dad" and, although her answers were clipped and sharp, much different from the friendly, teasing way she spoke to everyone else, she didn't ignore him.

Her father seemed confused at first. Maybe he'd been expecting her to run to him or something. Which was ridiculous. She hadn't done it before, and she wasn't into flashy shows of emotion even with people she actually liked. Surely he knew that much about her. Then, slowly, his manner cooled toward her, and he began treating her in the same impersonal fashion. At least, when there were other troops present. If he caught her alone—which was rare; Toph had a talent for disappearing when she didn't want to speak to someone—he still addressed her father to daughter, but Toph did not melt.

Finally, after three days, Lao approached Sokka while he was sorting through reports. Sokka smiled pleasantly, even though his teeth were clenched and he was muttering "Oh, spirits, no" in his head. "Sokka, I'd like to speak to you about a personal matter, if you don't mind."

Sokka nodded. Inside, he was cursing himself. They had an unspoken rule around camp: during the day (or missions, regardless of the time), soldies treated Toph and Sokka and anyone else in charge with unswerving respect. During the evening, however, when they had free time, Toph, Sokka, and the other leaders were just people again. The soldiers could come to them about anything: relationship problems, homesickness, disputes between themselves. This was a great way to build camaraderie. But it would also make for a very awkward discussion. Instead of saying anything, Sokka just gestured for Lao to sit beside him.

Sokka was rather surprised by how well the man had taken to things here: there was barely a hint of the spoiled noble he had been in his own element. Here, he was just one of the men, and he seemed to accept that. Lao sat down in a tailors' seat, resting his hands on his knees. After a minute, he sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "I don't know what to do about Toph," he said softly, speaking much faster than usual. "She will not even acknowledge me. It's like I don't exist—like I and her mother haven't spent the last two and a half years worrying ourselves sick over her!" He sighed. "I know two years is a long time—plenty of time to... change."

Sokka scowled suddenly and got to his feet. Lao trailed off, looking at him in confusion. Sokka put his index finger in his mouth and bit down hard to quiet his anger—yes, they were speaking man-to-man, not soldier-to-commander, but Sokka still couldn't say anything too stupid.

But... Toph was right. This rational, intelligent man, who had done nothing but impress Sokka since he joined... was an idiot. He did not see _Toph_. She was a ghost to him. A burden, not a daughter. Something to protect, not someone to love. How could he ignore how amazing she was? Sokka had seen her every day for the past two years, and she never stopped impressing him. How had he watched her grow up and never_seen_ it?

Lao frowned slightly. "What's the matter?"

Sokka let out a deep breath and turned away. Lao's confusion would just make him madder, and he had to be careful what he said. His words came slowly, each one inspected before he spoke. "That's just the thing. She hasn't _changed_. She has always been this way. She's always been coarse and loud and crude—she's always hit too hard and yelled too much."

He turned back to Lao, throwing his arms up in frustration. "She's always been Toph, just like she is now. That's why she won't speak to you—because you refuse to see that. You just... you look at her and see some helpless little doll. But next to her, _we're_ the helpless ones. Toph... Toph is Toph. You need to stop seeing her how you think you should be and start seeing her how she _is_."

Lao frowned. When he was upset, he could make his face as stony as Toph on her worst days. All the steam went out of Sokka, and he turned away again and rubbed the back of his neck, scuffing his shoe on the ground. "At least... that's what I think, anyway. I mean, I know her better than anybody else here, and that's what she told me, but... yeah." He sighed and hung his head. So much for his impressive leader image.

When he lifted his head, however, Lao looked thoughtful, not concerned. After a moment, he got to his feet and stood beside Sokka. "...Can I ask you another question?" Sokka nodded, looking at the darkening sky instead of his face. "What, exactly, are you to my daughter?" Sokka blinked. Lao crossed his arms against his chest. "I won't object if you say you're her lover, you know. We nobles try to pretend we don't have sex until marriage, but Toph's mother and I—"

At that point, Sokka finally reclaimed his jaw from the ground and jumped back. "Trust me, Mr. Bei Fong. Sir. We are _not_ lovers. Or—or—boyfriend and girlfriend. Or anything like that. We're friends. Just friends. That's all. Really."

But he was thinking about how he'd ran into her parents' house, ignoring all sense, and his heart was beating hard.

Lao raised his eyebrows, and then he shrugged. "If you say so, Sokka." To Sokka's surprise, he put his palms together and bowed—not very low, but still noticeably. "Thank you. Your words have been... helpful."

Utterly nonplussed, Sokka watched Toph's father walk away. Times like this made him wish he liked sake more. That conversation would have been so much less awkward drunk.

O-o-O-o-O

When he approached Toph and Sokka's private camp, Toph knew he was coming. How could she not? Those were footsteps she had learned to recognize when she was just barely old enough to put her feet on the ground herself. The hands clenched at his side had held hers as she learned to walk.

She wanted to leave, but that would break her own rules. She had said she would listen if he came to her, and here he was, approaching her during her downtime with Sokka. When Sokka heard him coming, he quickly got to his feet, but Toph grabbed the edge of his tunic and yanked. "Sit," she said, her voice at its deadliest, "or I will personally make sure you never have kids." Sokka squeaked and sat next to her again.

He'd said he'd talked with her father. Had that conversation borne fruit? The thought made her throat tight. She wanted it to—oh, spirits, she did. But there was nothing to do but sit and wait.

Her father sat down on the opposite end of the fire from them. His head was tilted to the side, and he was facing her without speaking, so he must have been studying his face. He wouldn't see the little blind girl he'd left: Toph was wearing a captain's uniform (and her Earth Rumble belt), and she'd grown taller, developed more muscle. These were changes she could feel. But what did he _see_?

She did not speak, just turned her face toward the flames' heat—toward him.

Her father didn't say anything either for a long time. Sokka kept fidgeting, but both of them ignored him. Her father was almost as good at patience as she was: when she was little and had done something wrong, her father would just sit with her until the guilt grew too much and Toph would shriek her crime just to end the awful _silence_.

Finally, her father set his hands on his knees and sighed. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, Toph? There are a lot of things I thought I would say to you when I finally had the chance. But... it seems they were the wrong things. I..." Her father trailed off, his body tense. She suspected his mouth was parted in a very un-noble-like frown. "I do not know you. I do not know you at all."

Slowly, her father bent forward until his forehead touched the ground. Despite herself, Toph gasped softly. "But I would like to ask you to give me the chance. Please." He raised his head, and Toph managed to make her face blank before he could see her surprise. "I have done horrible things in the name of protecting you—I have crippled you, more than your blindness ever could, and that is a crime." Her father didn't speak for a long moment; when he did, his voice was thick, and he was trembling slightly. "Please, Toph. Forgive me."

Could he be crying? Her _father_?

Toph realized she was trembling too and forced herself to stop. She reached inside herself for the anger she had felt just a few days ago—but it was gone. All of it. Now _she_ was shaking. Toph set her jaw and clenched her fists. Then she began listing off her objections, even though they were suddenly hollow and lifeless. "You treated me like an infant. Not just a child—that would have been okay—but a baby. A baby who could barely walk, much less speak or make her own decisions."

Her father didn't speak; Toph didn't stop. "You tried to stop me from taking my destiny, from going with the only people who _ever_ understood me." She got to her feet and turned her back on him, though she could still feel him shaking, sense the way he hid his face in his hands. "I felt bad about it, for a little while—leaving you like that. I wondered if you and Mom cared. I wondered how badly I made her cry, how many servants you fired because you couldn't yell at me. And then I realized that no matter how annoying or stupid or goody-goody my friends were, they were still my friends. People who welcomed me and teased me and never once _dreamed_ I couldn't take care of myself! I've never had that before—neve had a chance to have it—and you tried to stop me!"

She was shouting. She didn't care. Sokka was looking her way—he was just as tense as her father, one hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach for her.

For a long moment, her father didn't reply. Then, slowly, he straightened up and folded his hands in his lap. "Yes, Toph. I did all those things." He paused. "What about the bounty hunters? Harangue me for that, please."

Toph rubbed her jaw. As pissed as she was, she was a stickler for giving credit where it was due. "Actually, that I don't mind as much. I mean, I did when they actually caught me—for a while, I thought I was stuck. But that was how I learned to metalbend, so it's not _so_ bad."

Her father blinked. "No one can bend metal," he said, in that infuriatingly sure voice of his. Everyone else who had expressed disbelief had sounded slightly unsure of themselves—after seeing her bend, nobody was willing to say she couldn't do anything, even if it _was_ impossible. Except him, it seemed.

Sokka raised a hand. "Actually, she can," he said hesitantly, as though he expected both of them to turn on him. "It's pretty much the coolest thing ever."

"It is," Toph agreed, folding her arms over her chest.

Her father didn't speak for a while again. Then he rubbed his forehead. "Given the things I've already seen you do, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," he murmured. He sighed. "You are right, Toph. I did all of those things. You have every right to be angry. You _should_ be angry—you would not be my daughter if you weren't angry." He leaned forward. "But at the end of the day, that is what you are, my daughter. I have always known that. What..." He paused, tensing up again. "What I did not realize before is that also implies that I am your father. And fathers accept their children, no matter who they are."

A little flash of true anger stirred in Toph again, and she turned back to him. "Jeeze, you don't have to do it if it's such a _burden_. Most fathers would be happy to have the greatest earthbender ever as their daughter."

"I am happy," said her father, with no lie in him anywhere. Toph stiffened. "I am happy and proud, and every time I think of it, I almost cannot believe that someone as special as you came from your mother and I." He let a deep breath. "But I am also worried, more worried than I ever thought I could be."

Toph glared at the ground, her whole body shaking. "Was that supposed to make me feel bad about this? About living my life the way I choose to? I'm so sorry I'm not willing to lie about who I am and what I do to spare your precious little feelings!" Her father jerked back, stiffening in surprise. Toph just dug her fingernails into her palms until they almost broke the skin.

"You don't have to worry about her, you know," said Sokka softly. This time Toph _might_ have snapped at him, but he continued before she could find the right words to hurt him as much as she was hurting. "I mean it. You think you've seen what she can do?"

He got to his feet. "That was just the tip of the iceberg. The stuff she pulls off blows my mind on a daily basis, and I traveled with the fucking _Avatar_." (Toph's father flinched delicately at the curse, but Sokka didn't seem to care.) "You think you're making it better by saying you're worried? All that proves is that you're still looking through the wrong lenses, buddy. Open your eyes."

Sokka's defense made Toph's throat tight. She didn't deserve someone like that, who would stand up for her even when she was being deliberately cruel. Shaking her head, she turned away from them. Her father stood up, but Toph held out a hand. "I don't want to talk anymore," she muttered. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed." Before her father could speak, she pulled up her earth tent and pressed her face into the dirt, seeking the only reliable comfort she'd ever had.

"Toph—" Her father's voice. Toph flinched and pressed further into the earth, like she could make him disappear if she just ignored him long enough.

Sokka's voice now. "You should really just go. You can't talk to her when she gets like this—you'll both just say things you'll regret." He paused, and then Toph felt him walk over to Lao. "This... this was a good start, though." Her father just sighed, and then he walked away.

O-o-O-o-O

After a few minutes, Sokka approached her earth tent, hoping she wouldn't vent the rest of her anger on him. Toph liked crotch shots. But Toph ignored him, even when he knocked on the side. "Toph? I know you're still up." She didn't respond. "Please?" He paused and leaned his head against the tent. "You can make fun of me all you like, but I _know_ you need a hug. I need a hug, for that matter."

Slowly, the walls of the tent sank back into the ground. Toph was lying stretched out with her face hidden in the dirt; she rolled over and sat up, scowling. "You really do sound like the Sugar Queen," she muttered. But she let him pull her up and hug her. "What do you need a hug for?"

"That was almost as depressing to watch as I imagine it was to live through," Sokka sighed, rubbing her shoulders. "You're... you're my friend, Toph. It hurts me when you're hurting. And I know you were. You can slug me for saying it, but I know it's true."

Toph did slug him, though maybe not as hard as she would have normally. She knew it was true. After a minute or so, she wiggled out of his hold and sat down again, resting her chin on her fists. Sokka sat next to her, looking at the fire. "What are you going to do now?" he asked.

Toph's mouth twisted to the side. "...We'll make it work eventually," she said softly. "But I have to be patient, and when it comes to him... I don't have any."

Sokka put an arm around her shoulders again. "I'll help you with that, okay?" Toph sighed and pressed her face into his chest, nodding. "Good."

Toph hid her face. Sokka thought she was upset, but when she spoke, her voice was oddly... girly. Not Katara-level girly, but Toph-level girly. How she sounded when she had to dress up as a noble and asked him to do her hair or something. "Sokka... did you mean what you said? To my dad, I mean."

Sokka glanced at her, surprised. "'Course I did. Why wouldn't I?" Instead of saying anything, Toph just shrugged and hugged him around the waist.

(Obviously, Toph and Lao still have issues, but it's not the kind of problem you can fix in an afternoon. And, sadly, because this was just an on-the-fly thing, we do not return to him. But you guys will like the next two chapters. I promise.)


	6. Homecoming

Disclaimer: "Yo, dawg, you should try riding some animals! And tell my son to clean his room 'cause GODDAMN!"

(An: I know Korra is actually from the Southern Water Tribe, but since their men never got to go home, they didn't have time to knock anyone up. So Northern Tribe it is. She's a badass anyway.)

Sokka was careful about not looking out for messenger hawks. They were much too easy to intercept, so he and Toph only received one every once in a great while. Never mind that his hunger for news of home—and his sister and father—gnawed at his heart like a starving polar wolf; it was too risky. Only the most important of news was worth it: the combined tribes' victory over the first attempted invasion by the Fire Nation, for example.

Currently, they were in the middle of nowhere, hiding out for a few days after a failed raid. Their band had scattered, separating into small groups to make it more difficult for anyone to be caught; they had already arranged a meeting place for just this occasion.

Toph heard the messenger hawk before Sokka saw it. Sokka held out his arm; the hawk perched and let out another ear-piercing screech. Toph winced and rubbed her head. She wasn't looking at them, but she had her head cocked their way, a clear sign she was also eager for news. _Please don't let it be bad, please don't let it be bad, please_—

The seal on the letter was Fire Nation, better to disguise the hawk if it fell into the wrong hands. Sokka broke it with trembling fingers. There were two sheets, one a formalized report, the other a personal letter. Sokka unrolled the report first. The characters were in Hakoda's handwriting. Sokka traced them as he read aloud, like he could feel his father's presence behind the words. "'Sokka and Toph—the Fire Nation raids continue almost daily, but we are holding our own. They still haven't found a way to survive this far north. Our entire tribe is now here; most of the civilians have moved out further onto the tundra to keep away from the soldiers. We are safe. I hope you can say the same for yourselves. Hakoda.'"

Toph smiled. "At least your people are doing all right," she said softly. She reached over and stroked the messenger hawk's head.

Sokka smiled back, even though he knew she couldn't see it. Toph chafed at being stuck here instead of actively fighting, but Sokka didn't mind it. They'd been on the run almost constantly since spiriting away the people of Toph's hometown; he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it being just him and her. "There's another letter." He pulled it out, and his smile widened. "It's from Katara!"

Toph's face lit up. Katara hadn't once written them; all the letters had either been from Chief Arnook or Hakoda. Though Toph rarely mentioned it, Sokka knew Toph was just as worried about the absent member of their group as he was. Katara'd been in a bad way when they left the north pole. "Hurry up, Snoozles!" She reached over and touched the parchment, like she was trying to feel Katara like Sokka had tried to feel his father. "What's it say?"

"'Dear Sokka and Toph. I know I should have written you both before this but... you know how it was. I'm doing better now, I promise I am. Being with all these kids has done me good. And I have the best news ever—'" Sokka trailed off, his heart pounding. He looked at the characters again, certain he'd misread them. There was no way they could finally know—

"What?" Toph asked. She tugged on the parchment. "Sokka, what is it?"

He snapped out of his daze because she'd actually used his name—even these days, that was a rarity. Sokka cleared his throat, gently removing Toph's fingers from the parchment before she tore it. (They'd burn it anyway when they were done, but still.) "'The main group of babies that were born at the right time have just turned two, old enough to test them with the relics. We did it, and we found her. We found the new Avatar!"

At those words, Toph put her hand on his arm, holding so tightly it hurt. Sokka understood, though. He felt the same way. "Is that really what it says?" she whispered, tilting her face back as though she could somehow break through her blindness to search for a lie in his face. "Really?"

Sokka laughed softly. "You're the human lie detector—you tell me." Toph's eyes widened, and then she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. Sokka yelled in surprise, but then he hugged her back. Her voice was a whisper, unrecognizable compared to her usual bark. "I can't believe it. Something finally went right."

Sokka tightened his hold on her. "Yeah, I know." He pressed his face into her hair for a moment—after you almost died with a person enough times, casual touch became anything short of a kiss—and then he set her down. "There's more." Toph cocked her head. "I haven't read it yet either." He flipped the sheet over. "'Please, Sokka, come home.'" The joy that had swelled inside him suddenly collapsed. He glanced at Toph's face, but if she was bothered, he couldn't tell; she was still smiling like she would fly apart from her joy.

Toph quirked a brow, and Sokka cleared his throat so he wouldn't stumble over the words. "'Your job in the Earth Kingdom is just as important as ours, and I know I was the one who said you should go away in the first place, but I really want you to meet her. Anyway, it'll be your birthday soon, Sokka. Dad wants to see you turn eighteen. I love you both—Katara.'"

_Now_ Toph was looking at him with some measure of what he felt in her face. They had done many things over the past few years—fouled supply lines, blown up ships, faced too many enemies with too few fighters—but they had never separated. The only constant either had was the other: she was his rock; he was hers. Then Toph shrugged and sat down. He couldn't tell if she honestly didn't care or was just pretending; she was too good at hiding her feelings. "You're gonna go, right?"

Sokka bit back a dismayed noise. It was hard for him to explain just how important she was to him; the feelings ran too deep for him to ever articulate them. He knew it was the same for her—it had to be—but she was horribly, horribly good at pretending otherwise. "I... I don't know," he said after a minute, wishing he could climb a tree or something so she wouldn't know how hard his heart was beating. "I mean, Katara said it right here. What we're doing is important."

Toph tossed her head. Sokka thought the gesture was faked, but he couldn't tell for sure. "What, you think I can't manage without you for a while? Maybe you really are a meathead." She held up her arm; the hawk jumped to her. She traced the bird's pinfeathers, her face unreadable. After a minute, she lowered her head. "Sokka, they're your _family_. You risked your life to save mine—the least I can do is make sure you can go see yours."

"That was different," Sokka replied immediately. He still hadn't figured out why he'd done something so stupid. Yes, Toph was at a distinct disadvantage in burning buildings, but she could handle herself. She could. He'd been a lot more likely to get hurt than she had; their escape had been plain luck. And he'd still done it—would do it again. Couldn't even consider another option. But he didn't know _why._

Toph shook her head. "No, it wasn't." She could be infuriatingly understanding at times. "You did that for me. I want to do this for you. We're north anyway—if you take Appa now, you can get there in a week."

She was offering him a chance to see his family again. Why did it bother him so much? Sokka sighed and walked over to Appa to find his writing case. Then he paused. "...You could come with me, you know. You've never met my dad—I know he'd like you." Toph's frown deepened. Time to bring out the trump card. "I'm sure Katara misses you too."

Toph flinched. Then, slowly, her frown smoothed away into a neutral expression, and she got to her feet, still holding the hawk. "You know, I think I should," she said, caressing the bird's back. "We need to see if our little army can stand up by itself—if they fall apart, then everything we've been doing isn't any good. We can't be everywhere. Sooner or later, we have to set them loose. Why not now?"

Sokka rolled his eyes, though he was grinning again. Trust her to make something emotional into a matter of tactics. But really, he didn't care. He really _did_ want her to meet his dad. And he really couldn't stand the idea of being separated from her that long. Never mind why—it was how he felt. "You're right. Should I say you're coming too, then?" He wanted her to actually say yes, but Toph just looked at him with her "Don't make me punch you" face, like she always did when he asked a stupid question. Sighing, Sokka pulled out his writing case and penned his reply.

O-o-O-o-O

A week and three altercations with the Fire Nation later, Sokka finally set eyes on the front wall of the Northern Water Tribe. No longer was there a majestic ice gate: now it was a huge wall of solid ice, almost too high for Appa to fly over. At least the Fire Nation presence was down to a few scout ships right now.

"We're here now, right?" said Toph, cuddling even closer to him. Sokka untangled one hand from Appa's reins long enough to pull her against his side. He knew how much she loathed the trip north; it combined the two things she hated most in the world, flying and the cold.

"Yeah, we are." Toph didn't reply, just pressed closer to him. Which Sokka didn't mind at all—he was cold too. It had been a long time since he'd had to face the temperatures of his home. His heart sank as Appa dropped into the water on the other side of the wall. Instead of the graceful line of canals and ice buildings, there was just a long dock. Hakoda had mentioned they'd dismantled all the civilian homes this close to the wall, but it was still depressing. He couldn't help thinking how it'd looked when he first came here: a perfect, icy haven. Now it looked as ragged as the towns in the Earth Kingdom.

"What's wrong?" Toph asked, tilting her head toward him.

Sokka shook his head. "It's just... different, that's all. I knew it would be." Toph ran her fingers over the strip of fur at his wrist—she seemed to like that he was back in his Water Tribe clothing. It had been a long time; his old gear barely fit him anymore. But Toph couldn't tell, so Sokka supposed it was fine. Katara would cluck over the state of his clothing. At least, he hoped she would. A scolding would prove she was finally back to her old self.

A battalion of waterbenders stood on the edge of the dock, watching them with wary eyes. Appa swam up to them; Sokka raised a hand in greeting, and one of them approached. "You're here to see Chief Hakoda, right?" she called. Sokka nodded. His words had suddenly dried up at the thought of seeing his father again.

The waterbender gestured for him to follow. Sokka helped Toph up onto the dock. She made a face when she stepped on the ice but didn't say anything. "Don't worry," Sokka whispered in her ear. "There isn't much to see her right now anyway."

O-o-O-o-O

Sokka felt a little better when they got further into the city. There was another smaller wall, and after that everything looked mostly the same. The people were perhaps more haggard, warier, but that was true everywhere. And the grand steps leading to Chief Arnook's reception area were just the same.

Sokka shook his head. Suddenly, he couldn't stop remembering the first time he'd been here—why did he keep thinking of Yue all of the sudden? He hadn't had that problem last time. Was that just because he had been too depressed about Suki?

Shit. He hadn't thought of Suki in ages either. A wave of guilt hit him, and his arm tightened around Toph's. She pressed closer to him—she looked so strange in Water Tribe blue instead of her uniform. Except for her pale skin, she could almost pass as one of them dressed this way. "What is it?" she whispered.

"Nothing," Sokka replied, shaking his head. He'd never told Toph about Yue, and she'd heard only the barest details about Suki. She hated it when he talked about other girls, like each one was a personal insult. And, anyway, the stories were still painful, even after all this time. Toph frowned, but for once she didn't press the issue.

The waterbender gestured for them to go through the great doors, and then she ran back down the steps. She probably hated leaving her fighters as much as he hated leaving his. He trusted his army, yes, but he was still worried about how they were doing without him and Toph. And, he supposed, he felt guilty for leaving for personal reasons.

But all the bad feeling vanished the minute he set eyes on his father.

Hakoda was dressed in a chief's robes, something Sokka hadn't seen since he was a very small child. His father looked strange in them, like Sokka always had in Earth Kingdom dress. But Sokka remembered the way his father smiled at him, and only Toph's presence at his side kept him from running to his father's arms, no matter how old he was going to be. Hakoda walked down from the dais and met them halfway, embracing them both. Toph stiffened, but her expression remained bland.

Sokka put his free arm around his father's neck. He was taller than Hakoda now; the thought was unbelievable but true. "Hey, Dad," he whispered.

Hakoda hugged him more tightly for a moment, and then he held the two of them at arm's length. Toph's ears were cocked the other way, her version of staring at the floor in embarrassment. "It's so good to see you, Sokka," his father whispered. There were tears in his eyes, but his father did nothing about them. Sokka had a lump in his throat himself. Hakoda looked at Toph, his eyes flicking over the haze on hers. "And you must be Toph. I've heard some pretty amazing things about you."

Toph set her jaw, smirking slightly. Sokka grinned despite himself, rubbing his eyes. You'd never guess she couldn't see right now. "Well, I'm pretty amazing, so I'm sure they were all true." To Sokka's surprise, she let go of him and took a step back so she could bow. The politeness in her voice was sincere for once. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Chief Hakoda. I have no idea what you look like, but you have a nice-sounding voice."

Hakoda's lips twitched. "As do you," he said after a moment. One of his eyebrows quirked as Toph seized Sokka's arm again.

Sokka felt a sudden blush rise in his cheeks—he was so used to this that he'd forgotten what it had to look like to outsiders. "Toph can't see on ice, Dad. Usually, she can just use her earthbending, but this is..." He cleared his throat. "This is easier." Hakoda nodded, but he still looked amused. Sokka decided a change of subject was in order. "Where's Katara?"

Hakoda grinned suddenly. "We weren't expecting you so soon. She's down with the new Avatar. Come on, I'll show you the way." As they started back out of the reception area, Hakoda nodded at one of the guards. "Tell Arnook Bato will have to take my place at the war meeting—I have one that's more important."

O-o-O-o-O

Sokka expected his father to lead them to the healers' enclave, but instead he led them down toward the spirit oasis. Sokka was glad when they turned away at the last minute; he wasn't ready to face that place, not yet. Not when the memories of the girls he'd lost coated his throat and made it hard for him to speak. Hakoda stopped at what was apparently a blank stretch of ice. He gestured, and a waterbender came running over. The ice melted, revealing a long tunnel. "This is where we keep all the children we thought might be her," he said softly as they started down the tunnel. "There's no way to find it or enter without using waterbending."

Toph scowled and pressed closer to Sokka. He expected her to comment, but instead she stared at her feet, her face blank. Sokka almost asked her what the matter was, but then he caught his father looking at them again. He still wasn't sure how he would explain his and Toph's relationship to Hakoda. It wasn't like they were boyfriend and girlfriend, they were just... comrades. Yeah. You got really close with your comrades. And cuddling was a Team Avatar thing.

The tunnel curved sharply, and they walked into a large room. It was surprisingly warm. "A group of waterbenders got together and called a hotspring to the surface so we could keep the babies here," said Hakoda. His voice was still hushed, and now Sokka could see why. There were a dozen or so small children scattered about. Most of them were asleep, but a few came running over, calling Hakoda's name. Hakoda knew all of them and gave each one a hug before sending them back to their bedrolls.

"Your dad's good with kids," said Toph, her voice barely audible in the huge space. Sokka glanced at her, but he still couldn't tell what she was thinking. He patted her arm to show he agreed, frowning slightly. Why was she being so quiet? It wasn't like her to be shy.

They came to the end of the room; there was still no sign of Katara. Hakoda knocked three times on the wall. After a moment, it melted, revealing a much smaller room that held only one small cot—and Katara. She had her back turned; a small, dark face peered over her shoulder at them. "Hey, Dad," said Katara. Her voice was different... and yet it was the same. She almost sounded like she had before Aang's death. "What is—" She turned to look at them. A small gasp escaped her lips. Toph slipped her arm out of Sokka's in expectation of a hug that didn't come.

No, she didn't rush over, like she would've before the fall of Ba Sing Se. Instead, she took slow, deliberate steps and stopped at Hakoda first. He held his arms out to accept the child—the Avatar—and cuddled her against his chest, his eyes flicking anxiously over the three of them.

Katara turned to Sokka and just looked at him for a long moment, her face graver than he'd ever remembered it could be. What did she see? More scars, a darker tan, broader shoulders. She'd changed from a scrawny girl to a woman while he'd been away, and there were dark circles under her eyes that hadn't been there before. And her eyes... her eyes were like looking into a well without a bottom.

Then, all of a sudden, they filled with tears. She threw her arms around his neck, and it was like they had never found the boy in the iceberg at all: he was sixteen and she was fourteen again, just children without parents, with no one but each other. "I missed you so much," she whispered, her voice thick with suppressed sobs.

Sokka hugged her back, suddenly sorry that he'd ever made a face or protested when she'd done this before. "Me too," he whispered. He was crying, too, but he didn't care. It was okay to get emotional around your family.

Slowly Katara released him and looked at Toph. "Hey, Toph," she said softly. Toph sighed and held out her arms; Katara accepted the hug gladly. Sokka started. Katara had been a head taller than Toph when they left; now the girls were the same height. The height difference between him and Toph had remained constant, so he'd never noticed.

Sokka had never really been the sort for flashy displays of emotion, but he had to hug them both. He hadn't realized it, but before this moment, he had never allowed himself to dream they'd all be together again. Even Aang was here, in a way.

Toph only started blushing when he joined the hug. "Jeeze, Sokka, you act like you never saw us before," she said, sounding flustered. Sokka just hugged her tighter. After a moment, she wound an arm around her. But just for a minute. Then she started fidgeting. "Okay, okay. We still love each other. But I am seriously having trouble breathing right now."

Katara laughed, and they all let go of each other. When she looked at Sokka now, it was like they'd never separated—except for the way she cocked her head when Toph wound an arm around Sokka's. Why did _she_think it was weird? She knew Toph couldn't see. After a moment, she shrugged and turned back to Hakoda. The little girl had her thumb in her mouth, but she immediately popped it out and reached for Katara. Katara turned to them again, beaming. She looked happier than he'd ever seen her. "Sokka, Toph, I'd like you to meet Avatar Korra."

The little girl regarded them with grave grey-blue eyes. After a minute, she popped her thumb back in her mouth and nestled against Katara's chest. Katara stroked her thin black hair. Hakoda smiled. "I think I'll leave you four alone to get reacquainted. We can talk more tomorrow."

Sokka tilted his head to the side. "She's... awfully squishy. For an Avatar, I mean." Toph shook her head; Katara just looked unsurprised.

"She's two. What do you expect?" Katara lifted the girl up and looked her in the eyes; still the girl did not smile. After a moment, Katara nestled her against her neck. "Her mother died giving birth to her, and her father was killed a few weeks ago. I'm all she's got left in the world."

Even though it was a depressing statement, Sokka still had to smile. There could be nothing better for Katara—she needed people to need her. No wonder she finally seemed like her old self. It was also a relief to know the chain hadn't been broken; they'd all worried, even though Aang had woken up and come out of the Avatar state before he died.

Katara patted the girl's back. "I think it's time for you to go to sleep, honey." She leaned out of the doorway and called to one of the women attending the other children to take Korra. "I'll show you guys where you'll be sleeping. I want you to tell me everything—everything, okay?"

(Next section is gratuitous Tokka fluff. I love it.)


	7. Moonlight

Disclaimer: "Something in the way she moves Attracts me like no other lover"

(An: So... fluff. Yeah. I really like this chapter, so I don't have much to say.)

No matter what he did, Sokka couldn't seem to fall asleep. Katara hadn't left until after midnight, and they'd been flying three days non-stop, so he should have been exhausted. But no matter which way he turned, he couldn't block the moonlight from his eyes.

Dammit, why was all this bothering him _now_? This had been the best day of his life. But he couldn't seem to push past the memories. Why couldn't he stop thinking about love, about the people he hadn't been able to save? Toph was fine. He had no reason to feel guilty about her.

Finally, he got sick of it. He slipped out of his bedroll—not bothering to be quiet, since Toph was snoring, and walked out onto the terrace. From there, he could almost pretend nothing had changed here; it was just like that night when he'd met Princess Yue on the bridge for the first time. Spirits, _Yue_. He looked up at the sky, but the moon was hardly a sliver, not the bright full he remembered. It didn't matter to his memories: suddenly, he could feel her lips again, only they kept mixing with his memories of Suki. And that was wrong, that was horrible.

Sokka leaned against the railing; he didn't realize Toph had followed him until her fingers touched his elbow. He started, but then he slipped his arm down so she could take it, even though she'd had no problem finding her way out here. It was just habit now, he guessed. And he hadn't grabbed his parka, so her warmth was welcome. "What are you doing up?" he asked, his voice very soft.

Toph shrugged. "I heard you get up. You make as much noise as a stampeding platypus bear, you know that?"

Sokka knew he was supposed to laugh, or rib her back, but instead he just looked at the sky again. With Toph pressed against him, it was suddenly harder to think of death, but he still wasn't in a joking mood. Instead, he sighed and slipped his arm from her grip and around her thin shoulders. To his surprise, Toph put an arm around his waist as well. Only when her face was pressed against his side so he couldn't see her expression did she whisper, "What's the matter?"

Sokka looked down at her, an eyebrow raised. "I was gonna ask you the same thing. You've been really quiet all day."

Toph tilted her ears toward him, her version of an incredulous glance. "I didn't want to get in the way, that's all." Her voice was softer than she'd ever heard it. "I mean, your dad... he actually gets you." She and her father had had a long talk after the evacuation of her city, but he knew she still didn't consider the issue resolved. "And you haven't seen him in so long... you should enjoy that, without me getting in the way."

Sokka screwed up his face, his dark thoughts forgotten in his confusion. "Why would you be in the way?" Toph just kept frowning, and Sokka searched his brain for the right words. He'd never had a problem explaining things to her before—he knew her better than himself, knew how to shape his phrases so she'd understand—but all of a sudden he was as tongue-tied as he'd ever been around Yue or Suki. When the words came, they came slowly, reluctantly."Toph, you're... you're just as important to me as they are. Maybe—maybe in a different way," he was only starting to realize just how different, "but still. I want... I want you to be with them as much as I want to be with them myself." He wrinkled his nose. "Does that make sense?"

Toph cocked her head to the side. After a moment, she shrugged. "Not really. But I think I get what you mean." She blushed. "I want my dad to like you too."

Sokka ran his fingers over her cheek. In the moonlight, she was just a pale shadow, hardly the powerful earthbender she was in her own turf. And she was still so _small_... she'd punch him for saying that, but she was. Toph tilted her head back, toward his face. "What?"

After a moment, Sokka took her hand. "I want to show you something." And he did—more than he'd ever wanted anything. He wanted to show her there was a place for her in his world, that there would always be a place for her.

Toph, of course, couldn't sense his urgency; she just frowned. "Sokka, it's... what, two in the morning?"

Sokka smiled slightly. "That just means there won't be anybody there to bother us. Come on, you'll like this." Toph's frown deepened, but after a moment she let him pull her back into the room and out the front door.

O-o-O-o-O

Sokka refused to tell her where they were going; every time she asked, he just told her she had to wait and see. Nothing pissed her off more, of course, but he was the only solid thing she had in this damn place, so she went along with it. And... if she were totally honest with herself, she didn't mind. The way he'd spoken to her up on the balcony had been different than usual, in some way she couldn't explain. And when he touched her...

She blushed again at the thought and clung more tightly to his arm.

Finally, they came to a place that smelled of wood, not ice. "It's a little door, so you have to duck, all right?" he said softly. He bent down to show her the height and went through first, then pulled her after.

When she stepped through, she smelled seawater and ancient wood—and _grass_, and freshly overturned earth. Her hands, trapped in bulky mittens, came up to her mouth. "Yeah," said Sokka. He sounded almost as excited as she was. "Sit down." Slowly, she obeyed. There was no snow here, only grass. She slipped off her mittens and dug her fingers into the earth, smiling more widely than she had all week.

Sokka's hands brushed her knees as he reached to take off her boots. If it were anyone else, she would have protested—but it wasn't anyone else, it was Sokka, and she still liked him touching her a lot more than she was willing to admit. The first one slid off, and Toph immediately dug her toes into the ground. All of a sudden, she could see him kneeling in front of her. Though not his face, of course. She couldn't tell how he was looking at her, only that he was. He took off her other boot, and she did the same with her other foot.

Then she leaned forward. "Hold still," she commanded when he moved back a bit. She reached forward, hesitating for a moment to give him a chance to move her hands away. He didn't, so she placed them on his face. She hadn't realized how intimate touching somebody else's face was; she'd never really done it. But there was his nose, broken a few times in this fight or the other, and his eybrows, raised just slightly... and his lips, curved in a smile rather than a smirk.

Toph quickly drew back her hands and cleared her throat. "Um. This is great." His hands closed over hers, pulling her to her feet. "The ground's a little colder than I'm used to, but at least it's dirt." She wiggled her toes to get a better scope of the place: it was small, and circular, and only the dirt on the very top was alive. The rest was frozen solid. And there was a little pool in the middle, with fish. Huh. "Where are we?"

"The spirit oasis," said Sokka. His voice was hushed, but also... sad. Toph frowned, tilting her head to the side. Instead of explaining, Sokka tugged on her hand.

"I can see now, you know. You don't need to guide me." But she let him pull her over to the little pool anyway. Toph bent down and dipped her fingers in the water—it was hot! "What's this?"

"This is where the Moon and Ocean spirits live." His voice was barely a whisper. Toph cocked her head toward him, but he didn't speak again. What was his _problem_?

Her mouth twisted to the side, and she pulled her fingers out of the water, wiping them on her robes. "This is where that Fire Nation prick tried to kill the Moon Spirit, right?" She felt Sokka nod; she was so happy to be able to see it that she didn't punch him for not responding in words. "And this is where Twinkletoes went all psycho-spirit-y."

Sokka laughed; he sounded as surprised as she was to hear it. Toph raised her eyebrows. "I just... I forgot you had stupid nicknames for him too, that's all." He knelt next to her; Toph fought the urge to press against him. She didn't need the contact right now, she wanted it, and those were very different.

"My nicknames aren't stupid... Snoozles." Instead of laughing again like she'd hoped, Sokka sighed. "What is_with_ you tonight?" she demanded, standing up. "You've been weird ever since we got the letter from your dad—I thought you'd be happy! But here you are, acting like somebody just took your heart and stomped on it."

Sokka looked at her; Toph just kept scowling. After a moment, Sokka stood up and took her hands again. She tried pulling away, but he held her fast. "I have been weird," he said, looking at the sky. "Believe me, I've been wondering what's with me, too. And I think... I think I figured it out, that's all."

There was something different about the way he held her hands, something that made her blush. It was like when he'd touched her before—he was _touching_ her. He wasn't guiding or protecting, he was just touching her to touch her. Like he wanted to feel her skin. Toph blushed. She was glad Sokka couldn't earthbend; she did _not_ want him knowing how hard her heart was beating.

Sokka didn't continue immediately; he just looked at her, his whole body tense. Then he sighed. "Things have... things have changed, Toph. This place... it made me remember all the people I've lost—people I loved. And I realized something. As much as it hurt to lose them—and you remember it just about tore me apart..."

She did remember, and only the memory of that grief kept her from snapping at him to get on with it. That had been the worst part of her life: Sokka had had depressive episodes when one of their plans went badly and people got hurt, but he'd never been unreachable like he had then.

Sokka cleared his throat. "It... it killed me, but I kept going. I don't think I could do that if anything happened to you."

Toph swore her heart stopped for a second; her fingers went slack in his grip, and for a moment she could only gape. "...Sokka," she breathed. "What are you saying?"

Instead of saying anything, he leaned forward. He hesitated, just for a moment, and then his lips met hers.

O-o-O-o-O

Sokka remembered how wrong it had felt when Suki tried to kiss him that night at the Serpent's Pass. He had cared for her so much, had wanted to kiss her so much, but... it hadn't been right. This was. This was something that had been inside him forever, just waiting for him to notice.

To his surprise, Toph didn't move away. He'd never been able to parse out what she thought of him: if she really meant it when she called him "idiot," or if that was just something she did to avoid sentimentality. After a moment, her fingers closed around his, and she stood on tiptoe to kiss him back.

He let go of her hands so he could touch her face, her hair—they so familiar. He had touched them a thousand times over the years, but suddenly they had a bright new meaning. Her fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer.

Slowly, he broke the kiss and pulled her against his chest, so he could feel her heartbeat like he knew she felt his. He ran his fingers through her hair and was dismayed to realize he once again couldn't figure out what he wanted to say to her. Instead, he kissed the crown of her head, her temples, traced the curve of her neck with one hand. "So, um—"

"Shut up, Meathead." Her voice was sharp, but only in that way it was when he was hurt or they were backed into a corner—was she _scared_? He found that almost as hard to believe as the flutter of her pulse against his fingers. "Let me... let me talk for a second." Instead of continuing right away, she buried her face in his chest. Only when it was hidden would she speak; her voice was both utterly matter-of-fact and more emotional than he'd ever heard it. "I've pretty much been in love with you since you hit me in the head with my belt. And since I had to pull you out of a crack in the ground that only you would be dumb enough to fall into. And since you yelled for me when I was heading back to Ba Sing Se and made me fall flat on my ass like an idiot."

"Only you could make that into an insult," he said, but he wasn't bothered at all. He felt like his heart had swelled against his ribs, so much he could only take short, shallow breaths and run his fingers through her hair. Toph blushed darker and shook her head. He took his face in her hands and tilted her face back so her sightless eyes stared at his own. "I love you too, Toph. More than anything."

Instead of trying to wiggle away, Toph smiled. And Sokka smiled back and kissed her again. All of a sudden, Toph started chuckling. "What? I'm not _that_ bad of a kisser, am I?" he asked. He tried to sound offended, but he couldn't stop smiling, and she knew she saw right through him.

Toph blushed again. "No, the kissing—the kissing is fine." She grinned suddenly and pressed her forehead against his. "But Katara's gonna _flip_ when she finds out. I love it when Katara flips out."

Sokka cocked his head. "I feel like I should defend her... but it _is_ funny when you get under her skin." He paused. "Unless she freezes me to something. You won't let her freeze me to something, will you?"

Toph snorted. "How am I supposed to do that if there's nothing for me to bend? Come on, Sokka. Don't make me call you 'Meathead' again. You were doing so well." Kissing always _was_ a great way to shut people up. Good thing it worked on Toph.

(This is, sadly, the apex of the fluff. Next chapter is more Sokka-and-Katara stuff.)


	8. Sympathy

Disclaimer: "You always love your family, but that doesn't mean you like them."

(An: This is a short chapter because it did _not_ turn out how I wanted it to. It was supposed to be silly, but... well, it's Katara angst. It'll be important if I ever get around to the long version of this, which would center mostly around her. But I need to do a lot more planning before that ever materializes.)

"I don't get it," said Toph, reaching up to touch Sokka's hair. "What does the braid mean?"

Sokka grinned, leaning forward so she could inspect his new hairstyle. He had one braid, and, though he still had some pulled back in a wolftail, he wore the rest of his hair loose, like his father. "It means I'm a man now," he said, putting a hand on her waist. The two of them were standing on the balcony outside their room; the feast celebrating Sokka's eighteenth birthday had just ended, and they finally had a little time to themselves.

"Pfft." Toph put her hands on her hips. "_Boys_." She sighed and put her arms around his neck. "And they say girls always need to be appreciated." Shaking his head, Sokka started kissing the side of her neck—he'd discovered it was a particularly effective way to shut her up.

Someone knocked on their door. Toph and Sokka twitched apart as Katara walked inside. They still hadn't told anybody that things had changed, even though it had been three days. Both of them agreed they had to tell Katara first, but to Sokka, it just seemed... mean, for some reason. They'd already left her here—never mind it was her own idea—and now she was a third wheel. How were you supposed to bring that up tactfully?

For once, Katara didn't have Korra on her hip; the toddler was probably asleep. She smiled at them both and sat cross-legged on the rug, holding something behind her back. "Well?" Sokka blinked. "Don't you want your present?"

Sokka grinned and clapped his hands, ignoring Toph and Katara's simultaneous eye-roll. He and Toph came over and sat down across from Katara. "Close your eyes," Katara ordered. Still grinning, Sokka obeyed. After a moment, something soft fell into his lap. "Okay. Now you can look."

Sokka glanced down, and a sudden lump came to his throat. He picked up the new tunic and helmet, holding them up to the tallow lamp on the wall. "...You made me a wolf headdress," he said softly, tracing the designs on the tunic. The wolf outfit was unique to the southern tribe: each warrior's outfit was unique, tailored to show his talents to anyone who knew how to read it.

Katara nodded. "I figured I might as well, since I was fixing up all your old clothes anyway. And I guess you're actually important now." She flapped a hand at him. "Something like that, anyway." Sokka passed the costume to Toph so she could study it, then leaned forward to kiss Katara's cheek. She smiled in surprise and ruffled his hair. "What's gotten into you, big brother?"

Sokka's eyes moved to Toph; he bit down hard on his tongue so he wouldn't blush. "Uh, you know. I'm just glad we're all together again, that's all." Katara's smile faded suddenly, and Sokka kicked himself. "More or less. Um."

Toph let out a deep sigh and dumped his things back on his lap. "Do you want to see what I got you, or should we just savor the awkwardness a little while longer?" She was a lot better at pretending indifference than him—but, then again, she'd always been good at that.

Sokka studied Katara, but she was smiling again, though perhaps not as brightly as before. He sighed and slumped forward. "Present, please." Toph reached around until she found her pack and pulled it over. Then she placed a sack on top of Sokka's new outfit. Sokka picked it up and sniffed. "Is this—" He opened it. "It _is_! Cured seal jerky!"

Toph shrugged. "Not very original I know, but you're always whining about how we never find anything as good as what you guys make up here, so I asked around." She was smiling, although she did her best to look unconcerned.

Sokka gave her a quick hug—quicker than he would have liked, given Katara's presence. "It's perfect. Really." He took another deep whiff and closed the bag again. "This'll be great when we go back. I never have enough meat." He lifted his head, and some of his enthusiasm died. Katara had turned her face away. "What's the matter?"

But Katara shook her head, and her smile returned. "Nothing. Really. I just forgot how much I missed you guys." She reached over and tugged on Sokka's sleeve. "Come on, try on the outfit. I want to see how it fits."

O-o-O-o-O

The next morning, someone touched Sokka lightly to wake him up. Sokka opened one eye—was it Toph or something? But no, it was Katara, hardly visible in the gray pre-dawn light. Usually she kicked him. She pressed a finger to her lips before he could speak and gestured for him to follow. Sokka bit back a sigh and got up, pulling on his boots and his parka. He glanced at Toph, but as far as he could tell, she was still asleep.

Even if Toph did wake up, she would probably just go back to bed. She knew Katara and Sokka hadn't really had a chance to speak to each other since arriving. Hakoda and Arnook had wanted to show Sokka all of the defenses they had in place and introduce him to their fighters, and then there was Gran-Gran (and Gramp-Gramp, no matter how much he hated that nickname), and his birthday... things had piled up.

Now, however, it seemed it was finally time to rectify that. Katara and Sokka slipped out of the room, heading for the secret cavern where the children—and Avatar Korra—were kept. Sokka opened his mouth, but Katara shook her head. Her face was tight and drawn; she looked like she hadn't slept since leaving last night.

When they arrived at the cavern, they snuck by the sleeping children and went into Korra's room. She was already awake. One of the healers was tending her, but when Korra spotted Katara, she immediately started fussing and reached for Katara. Katara took her without complaint, kissing the top of her head. Gently bouncing Korra, Katara turned her back on Sokka and sighed. "I've been thinking lately," she murmured.

"What about?" Sokka asked, leaning against the wall. They'd been apart for so long; he couldn't tell what was on her mind at a glance anymore. She was still his sister, but there were hidden parts of her he would never really know. It was a depressing thought.

Katara rubbed Korra's back and didn't speak for a moment. Then she looked over her shoulder at him. "Things... things have been going well for you, haven't they? I mean, you've had problems, but for the most part things have worked."

Sokka nodded, shrugging. "We've done pretty well for ourselves, I think." A small frown crossed Katara's face. "What? Haven't you guys? I mean, it's been two years and you're still holding your own against the Fire Nation... aren't you?"

Katara nodded slowly. "It's just..." She sighed. "Not everything is as great as Dad and Arnook make it sound, Sokka. They're wearing us down, even if we don't like to admit it. There's enough food to keep us going, but not enough to really save any. I just keep thinking... what if we have a bad hunting year? How will we feed ourselves?" She closed her eyes. "And we don't like to admit it, but sooner or later, we're going to hit a point where we've got more boys than men. We can't replace ourselves as fast as they kill us."

Her hands started shaking. She quickly set Korra down on her pallet and got the little girl settled before continuing. She straightened up and brushed the hair away from her face, her lips trembling. "How are we going to keep doing this for another ten years, Sokka? How... how will we protect her?"

Sokka pulled her into a hug, as much to comfort her as to hide his doubtful expression. He had been taught since childhood to see the long game, to always see the forest before the trees. And he would be the world's worst liar if he said he hadn't wondered the same thing.

Yes, the Northern Water Tribe had survived for a hundred years before this, but that was without the burden of his own tribe, and they could always count on supplies and support from the northern Earth Kingdom. _And_the war on their tribe had been intermittent, the folly of second sons and lower naval captains trying to make their name. The Southern Water Tribe, on the other hand, had been battered like metal between a hammer and an anvil. It had taken years, but they had fallen apart. Sooner or later, the same thing would happen here. And then they would find Korra, and they would kill her.

His arms tightened around Katara. "Everything will be all right," he said softly. "You'll see. The whole Fire Nation thinks the Avatar's dead and that they don't have anything to worry about. They're only attacking this place to hedge their bets—pretty soon, they'll realize we're not gonna crack, and then they'll give up. We can survive if they fight piecemeal like they did before."

Katara pushed him away, shaking her head. Tears glistened in her eyes, but they were angry, not sad. She wiped her eyes with her fists, scowling at the floor. "That's not good enough, Sokka." She glanced at Korra, who watched them solemnly with one thumb in her mouth. "It's not! I won't—" She stopped abruptly and turned away, clutching herself. When she spoke, her voice trembled, but she wasn't shouting anymore. "I won't _lose_ him again, you understand? I couldn't... I couldn't take it."

Sokka sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Katara, I know how you feel. I worry about it too. But what else are we supposed to do?"

Katara glanced at him. "We could take her to the Earth Kingdom." Sokka blinked, blindsided by her statement. "I'm serious. You don't worry about anyone finding the king, do you?"

Sokka spread his hands. "Because he's got crazy-ass earthbending soldiers who'd die before letting anyone touch him! I mean, sure, we put him in a good hiding place, but, personally, I rest easy because of the soldiers."

But Katara shook her head. "The fact remains. If the Fire Nation decides to take on a serious siege—one that lasts weeks or months instead of just a few days—we couldn't handle it. Sooner or later, they'd get through, and either we'd starve in here or they'd melt the ice and find us. It's just too small up here, Sokka."

She sighed and sat down next to Korra, taking the girl onto her lap. The hand that stroked Korra's hair was gentle, though her voice was at its fiercest. "In the Earth Kingdom, at least we would have somewhere to _go._Up here... all we can do is wait. And I can't take it anymore." She kissed Korra's forehead. "Our tribe will have enough trouble surviving without the Avatar to worry about, too."

Sokka just looked at her for a minute. Katara thought with her heart, not her head. She was always letting her feelings get the better of her—this was why it was so much easier to reason with Toph. Toph never let pride or worry or anything like that get in the way, but that was all Katara ever used as a compass. And if he snapped at her, they would just fight, and he didn't want that, not when he needed to go back to the Earth Kingdom so soon.

Sighing, he dropped to one knee in front of his sister. "Katara, if you came to the Earth Kingdom, you couldn't be with us." Her eyes widened, but Sokka held up a hand. "We have a mission, and you have a mission. The two are complementary, but they don't... they don't really work together. Toph and I—we have to be free to go wherever we need to. Yeah, we've got an army, but our strength depends on being able to break up into small groups and flee when we have to. That's not the kind of force you want protecting the Avatar."

His frown deepened, and he looked away for a moment. "...I hate to admit it, but I do agree with you. Even if it is our home, this place is a trap. But... you need to put up with it for a while, okay? Right now, we can't risk it... and I don't think it'll be any safer in a few years, either." He rubbed his forehead. "Toph and I, we'll look for someplace we can keep you. I promise. 'Til then, you just have to be patient."

Katara snuggled Korra and didn't say anything for a long moment. "...I just hate being stuck here, that's all," she said softly. "I mean, I can help fight the Fire Nation when they come, and I can train the other waterbenders, and I can take care of the children, but... I don't know what's happening with you and Toph, and it kills me."

Sokka put a hand on her shoulder. "I feel the same. I worry about you and Dad every day. But I don't let it get in the way of doing my job. This... this is a crappy situation for everyone. But we just have to wait it out and make sure everyone stays alive until Korra can go all crazy spirit-power on the bastards."

The little girl lifted her head when Sokka said her name, scrunching up her face like she didn't take much hope from Sokka's words either. Katara lowered her head. "You're right," she whispered. "I know you're right, and it's the only thing we can do, so why... why does it bother me so much?"

Sokka hugged her. "Because it's never right when we have to be apart. But sometimes we do." He put his arm under hers and pulled her to her feet. "Come on. I hate having these kind of talks on an empty stomach."

O-o-O-o-O

The rest of the day, they spoke of nothing serious. When the moon was high in the sky, though, Katara came by again. Sokka and Toph weren't cuddling this time; though neither had said anything, they were both expecting her. She didn't immediately speak, just hesitated. Then she walked over to the balcony.

Sokka and Toph joined her. None of them spoke for a while; they all knew what Katara was here for, and none of them wanted to breach the subject any earlier than they had to. Then Katara sighed, resting her arms on the railing and her head on her arms. "So when are you guys leaving?"

"We were thinking we'd go when the moon turned full," said Sokka softly. "It's less likely the Fire Nation will be around—it's not like they've got Zhao to try something crazy this time, after all. We'll still be here for a few weeks, Katara." He slid an arm around Toph's shoulders and pulled her against him.

If Katara thought anything of this, she didn't show it. Instead, she just sighed. "I know you'll be here for a while. So why do I still feel so rotten?"

"Because any way you look at this, it sucks," said Toph, pressing her cheek against Sokka's sternum. "It really, really sucks."

Katara nodded, lowering her head. Sokka lifted his other arm. After a moment, Katara put an arm around his waist and pressed against him. They stood there looking at the moon for what felt like forever.

(Next chapter is the last because this was just a random thing for Tokka Week. It's an ending, at least.)


	9. Legacy

Disclaimer: "When we awake We'll know that everything's all right"

(An: This is more of an open-ended... thing... than a real ending, because A) I made this story up on the fly and B) because the only reason I started it is because I was writing another story set two years later in the same AU. So... yeah. Hope it satisfies.)

The moon grew fat too soon. Had Sokka and Toph really been home for almost a month? It felt like hours. But they couldn't risk delaying any longer. As Sokka had predicted, the intermittent attacks by the Fire Nation ground to a halt as the waterbenders defending the city heard the call of the moon. This was the best chance to return to the Earth Kingdom they would get.

And Sokka _still_ hadn't told Katara about him and Toph! Toph had threatened to do it herself, but both of them knew she didn't mean it. Toph loved Katara, but this was a delicate matter, and Toph was about as delicate as a stampeding komodo rhino.

Sokka bent down over his pack and double-checked it for the thousandth time that morning. They were leaving in the evening, when the few remaining ships would be quietest. As far as anyone knew, the Fire Nation didn't realize the former Avatar's old friends were behind the string of attacks in the Earth Kingdom, and everyone wanted to keep it that way.

"Would you stop fussing?" Toph demanded, sitting down on his stuff before he could go through it again.

Sokka squawked. "You'll smush my wolf helmet!" Toph quirked an eyebrow. Sokka sighed and pulled her to her feet. "Okay, okay, you're right." He put his arms around her, glad she couldn't see the scowl that crossed his face. She _was_ right, but what was he supposed to do with himself all day? "I'm just nervous, I guess."

Toph patted his cheek with her version of an affectionate smile—which was awfully close to a smirk. "I know you are, Snoozles. But you shouldn't be. We'll get back home and everything will be fine." She paused and frowned. "Well, as fine as it can be with a baby Avatar and the Fire Nation in Ba Sing Se. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." Katara would have insisted they discuss it more, but Toph just smiled and tilted her head up so he could kiss her. That was _another_ reason she made such an awesome girlfriend; when it came to talking about feelings, she was just as good as a boy. Discuss the bare minimum, done.

A light knock came on the door a few minutes later. Katara. He didn't know why she still bothered to knock; she spent almost as much time here as they did. For a moment, he was tempted to just keep kissing Toph—they were on a roll, and it would save a lot of time anyway.

But he couldn't piss off his sister on his last day home. He broke the kiss and shouted, "Come in!", then dropped another quick kiss on Toph's nose when she made a face. When Katara ducked in, both of them were sitting on the rug on the floor, no closer and no farther apart than they had sat before their arrival here. "What's up, Katara?"

She shrugged. "Same as always. I brought breakfast." She took off her bag and sat down in front of them, producing rolls with meat and cheese. She kept quiet as she shared them out, but there was clearly something on her mind. Sokka raised his eyebrows. "...Dad wants to know if you want to take any waterbenders back with you. They could come in handy."

Sokka shook his head. "They could, but that's not the kind of operation we're running. We want this to look like there's no order behind it—like the Earth Kingdom's just striking where they can, when they can. That way, the Fire Nation won't be expecting it if we find a way to make some kind of master strike. We have to keep it quiet until Korra gets big enough to join us."

Katara's eyes flashed when he mentioned Korra, but she didn't bring up what they'd discussed before. Instead, she sighed. "All right." She took a bite of her roll. "But you'll have to actually write to me this time, all right? I want to know what's going on—I need to."

Sokka frowned. Katara had been insinuating that she might go against his advice and join him in the Earth Kingdom. Not outright, of course. But Katara was horrible at hiding her heart: it was always there, pulsing on her sleeve for everyone to see. Then he sighed. They were taking Appa. What could she really do? "Of course we will, sis. You know, when we're not running for our lives and stuff."

"We don't run for our lives," said Toph, sticking out her chin. "We saunter." Sokka snorted and ruffled her hair; Toph blushed. Katara's mouth twisted to the side, and she cocked her head. Crap. Sokka took in a deep breath and opened his mouth, but apparently Toph had guessed the reason for the silence; she grabbed his ear and yanked, ignoring his yelp of pain. "Oh, that's right." Her voice was too high and too sweet. "Sokka had something he wanted to tell you, didn't he? Been going on about it _all month_."

Katara looked at Sokka, her eyebrows raised. He couldn't tell if she was upset or amused; her lips kept twitching, but there was a worry, deep in her eyes. Sokka sighed again. Well, he wasn't getting around it—that was Toph's crotch-punching voice—so he decided to take the tigerdillo by the tail. Looking away, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Um. Katara. Toph and I... we're, uh... you know." He held up his hands and interlaced his fingers.

Katara's mouth twitched. Okay, she was amused, but trying to pretend she was upset. Not good—Toph was excellent at mocking him, but when Katara was around, they kicked it up a whole 'nother level—but not bad, either. Humiliation was much better than a fight or tears. She crossed her arms. "What, you mean you're dating?"

Toph and Sokka had never decided on a title. Personally, Sokka thought "dating" was too frivolous a term, considering everything they'd been through together, but Toph was too young to call it something more serious. He couldn't think of a term that fell in the middle. Especially when Toph was in her crotch-punching mood. "Er..."

Toph grabbed his ear again, scowling. "He's my boyfriend, okay? And I'm his girlfriend, except that might change because I might have to seriously injure him for being such a dumbass." Apparently she hadn't picked up on the "_pretending_ to be upset" part.

Katara snorted and leaned forward to hug both of them. "Let's try to keep the maiming to a minimum, okay, Toph? We don't want you guys _forced_ to stay here another month." She ruffled Sokka's hair. "Don't look at me like you're surprised. You two aren't nearly as good at hiding things as you think you are." She got up and brushed off her knees. "I don't think Dad's nearly so observant, though. Let's go break the news to him, eh?"

O-o-O-o-O

They set off around midnight, after goodbyes that were both too long and much, much too short. Once they were in the air, Toph tucked her head under Sokka's chin, pressing closer to his warmth. It was the only solid thing when they were flying. "Did you want to stay?" she whispered. Her voice came out much weaker than she would have liked, but she had to ask anyway. Sokka had never said anything, but you never knew... this was still his home, no matter the plans he made.

Sokka freed one hand from Appa's reins to stroke her hair. "'Course," he said, his voice thick. He kissed the top of her head; Toph snaked her arms around his waist and pressed closer to him. When they were flying, it was so hard to tell what was real. "But we've got a job, don't we? Sooner or later, this damn war will end, and we can go back. Or they can come to us. You know. Whatever works."

Toph pressed her face into his parka to hide a smile.

O-o-O-o-O

They spent three days flying; once they got to the tip of the Earth Kingdom, they had to stick to walking again. They were headed for a secret cave, northeast of Ba Sing Se; one of their men would be waiting there to fill them in on what they'd missed. But as they went, Sokka started noticing something distressing.

"Is it just me, or does it seem like there's even more Fire Nation than usual around here?" Sokka asked when they made camp after the first day's hike. He tried to say it jokingly, but more of his worry came across than he wanted. And he _was_ worried. Things hadn't been this bad since they'd first came back, right after the fall of Ba Sing Se.

Toph crossed her arms, frowning at her feet as she wiggled her toes: her favorite thinking pose. "There is," she murmured, getting to her feet. She walked to the edge of her camp and tapped one foot: her way of scouting out the land. "And they're busier than usual—like a fire ant hill poked with a stick. I don't like it." She stood there for a moment longer, and then she came over and sat back-to-back with him.

"Me neither." Sokka reached back and found her hands, resting his head against hers. Even touching her couldn't quell his worry—he couldn't put a name to it, and that was why it bothered him so much. "...What do you think they're up to?"

Toph just shook her head. Sokka was the planner, the imaginer. Toph didn't bother with flights of fancy; she dealt in what they knew, and what they knew only. Still, she squeezed his fingers. "We'll find out when we get to the hideout." She turned around and slid her arms around his neck. "We should get some sleep—the earlier we leave, the less chance we'll run into somebody." She kissed him, and then she retreated to her own bedroll.

Sokka claimed his from Appa. The flying bison let out a low groan; Sokka stroked his neck. "I know, buddy," he murmured. "I'm worried too."

O-o-O-o-O

Sokka could tell as soon as they reached the hideout that it had been compromised. The inner sanctum, where they kept the supplies, was untouched because it was reachable only by earthbending, but the entrance to the outer cave was lined with scorch marks. Sokka knelt and brushed his fingers through the soot, then lifted his hand to his nose. "Probably two weeks old," he muttered. "How did they find this place?"

"Jien might not have been hiding," said Toph. She was bent down with one hand pressed to the earth, listening for movement. "If she was out getting food or something, they could have spotted her and taken her in for questioning—it's happened before."

Sokka frowned, rubbing his chin. "I don't know, Toph. Something... something doesn't feel right." She nodded, folding her arms. Sokka got to his feet and poked around again, but rain had washed away all the evidence outside the cave mouth. "We'll just have to head into one of the villages, see if they have any information."

O-o-O-o-O

There were three villages within a day's walk from the hideout. Sokka and Toph picked the one farthest from Ba Sing Se; it was the most likely to be safe. But the path there was crawling with Fire Nation. A trip that should have taken six hours took twice that. They reached the city at nightfall, and then they couldn't even stop at the tavern to get a drink. Everything was closed. "There's still people here," said Toph, "but they're all inside."

"Maybe there's a notice board around here somewhere," said Sokka, rubbing his jaw. "That might tell us why everyone's hiding." Toph frowned. Then she started, just as a hand grabbed Sokka's arm. Sokka whirled, his free arm going for his club—but it was Jian, their informant. She pressed a finger to her lips: her face was haggard, and a bandage covered her opposite shoulder.

Jian pulled them through the back door of the nearest house. Only when the door was locked and the windows shuttered would she speak. "The city's under a curfew," she whispered. "Anyone out on the streets after sunset is captured and questioned—no exceptions. Most of the people who get caught haven't come back."

"What happened to you?" Toph asked, cocking her head. "Your voice sounds awful."

Jian smiled thinly and leaned against the wall. "I was surprised coming back from here. It wasn't random. The soldiers were in the cave, waiting for me. I got away, but it wasn't easy. I haven't dared leave this village in case they recognize me." She ran a hand through her thin hair and sighed. "I managed to get a letter back to the rest of the group. Apparently, they've all been having the same problem—little villages, the ones the Fire Nation doesn't usually bother with, keep getting captured and put under martial law."

Sokka looked over at Toph, even though he knew she couldn't see his worried glance. She frowned all the same and took a step closer to him. Little villages by themselves weren't much of a worry—losing one or two was expected. You couldn't be everywhere. But little villages in a group were a problem. More people under Fire Nation control meant fewer people who could take in refugees, share supplies, or hide their soldiers. Never mind the number of fighters it would create; they needed people free.

Sokka looked back at Jian. "You should just relax," he said, setting his hands in his pockets. "Stay here, settle in. You need time to recuperate, and they know your face." Jian flinched—she had a long scar running from her left ear to the notch of her breastbone—although both of them knew that wasn't what Sokka meant. "Just... get better. Watch things here for us."

Jian looked down at her hands, clasped in front of her sash. "What will you and Toph do, now that you're back?" she whispered.

Sokka looked at Toph again. After a moment, Toph shrugged and cracked her neck. "We're gonna make our way back to everyone else, and then we're gonna knock some heads. What else?" Jian's lips twitched, but she couldn't quite smile.

Sokka reached over and patted Jian's shoulder. "You did good work here. Now just try and get better, all right?" Jian nodded. Sokka walked over to the window and peered out. A patrol was just passing: two soldiers, one mounted on a komodo rhino and one carrying a spear. "Can we stay here with you tonight? I think it's too risky right now."

Jian nodded. "The people here have agreed to look after me. I'm sure they won't mind doing the same for the Avatar's companions." She nodded at a door leading deeper into the house. "I'll find you a place to sleep."

Once Jian had ducked through the door, Sokka reached over and took Toph's hand, as much to get comfort as give it. "This isn't looking good," he murmured. Toph nodded, her face grave.

O-o-O-o-O

They got out of the village and started heading south. Faced with troops almost as thick as underbrush, they had to make a stopover at the Western Air Temple to leave Appa with Pahtik. They justified it as being because Appa was too noticeable, but, really, they both loved Appa too much to risk anything happening to him, even if it meant ditching their fastest means of transportation.

"You know when I said this was like after we came back the first time?" Sokka commented after one particularly narrow escape. He rubbed burn lotion on Toph's shoulders—she'd barely ducked in time to avoid a blast from a mounted firebender—and kissed the nape of her neck. "Forget that. This is totally worse."

O-o-O-o-O

Finally, they heard whispers of their main group, whispers they could follow back to their army. The bulk of their group was hidden in an underground cavern west of the forest where they had met Jet all that time ago.

When they arrived in the hideout, there were few welcomes and fewer smiles. No one seemed to grudge them leaving—at least as far as Sokka could tell—but they all looked... ragged. Too thin. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep the worry out of his face, smiling and waving at everyone who glanced his way.

Lao was waiting for them in the center of camp. Since he had the most formal training, Sokka and Toph had left him in charge, along with a few others who were out on raids. Lao moved to embrace his daughter, but Toph jerked back, toward Sokka. A frown crossed Lao's face, but then he relaxed and sat down. "It's good to see you both back in one piece," he said softly, resting his hands on his knees. "Was the journey difficult?"

Toph quirked a brow; Sokka nudged her to make her keep her mouth shut. He looked at Lao and shrugged. "Bad, but we still made it back." He leaned toward Lao. "Now could you please explain how this all happened?" Lao raised his eyebrows. He and his daughter looked almost the same when they did that, although Lao was clearly trying to mask some sort of worry. Sokka sat down and spread his hands. "Come on, Lao, be honest with me. The Fire Nation presence hasn't been this strong for over a year and a half. What's with all the madness now?"

Lao looked down at his hands and let out a deep, slow sigh. "A week after you left, we received word that a very important general was visiting a fortress on the eastern coast. After some discussion, we decided it would be best to try a raid, to see what intelligence we could gather. But the plan went awry—the people who were sent there were all captured. Most... most did the honorable thing before being tortured into talking, but a few..." He sighed.

Sokka's hands tightened on his knees. Toph's face had suddenly gone dead white. He swallowed hard to stop his voice from trembling—if they were discovered, it would be the end of everything. Their entire operation needed secrecy, as much as he needed air to breathe. If they lost that... Why had he been so_stupid_? "What... what did they find out?"

Lao closed his eyes. "As far as we know, they have no knowledge that you and Toph ever returned from the Northern Water Tribe after leaving the Earth Kingdom the first time. But they do now know that there is an active conspiracy, not just disorganized rebel groups."

Sokka let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. That was bad, but it could have been so much worse. He pressed his hand to his forehead and rubbed until he was a little calmer. "Well, that explains why they're being so harsh, anyway," he muttered, trying to keep his voice light so Lao wouldn't see how upset he was. He got to his feet. "Toph and I need to discuss this. What did you do after that?"

"We've been only enacting small plans," said Lao, keeping his eyes away from Sokka's face. Clearly, he was ashamed, even though this had always been expected. "Defending towns and fouling supply lines only—no open attacks."

Sokka nodded. A muscle in his jaw jumped; he didn't trust himself to keep speaking. "Good. Come on, Toph."

They retreated to a small cavern off of the main one, lit by a smoking torch. Toph closed the entrance, and then both of them just stood there for a moment. Then, slowly, Toph walked over and took his hands. "It's not your fault," she whispered.

Sokka started—even though, like always, she knew exactly what he'd been thinking. He stepped out of her hold and turned his back to her. "Yes, it is," he said softly. "I was the one who wanted to leave, and I was the one who wanted you to come with me. Therefore, it is entirely my fault."

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against, biting his lower lip hard against the lump in his throat. He was a man now, wasn't he? Then why did he still feel like a kid watching his dad sail away whenever he screwed up?

Toph cocked her head, a scowl plain in her voice. "This isn't the time for self-pity, Sokka. Don't make me kick your butt. I'll only be nice to you if you pull up your pants and tell me what we're going to do now."

She was right. And that was frustrating as hell. Sokka's hand clenched into a fist; he pressed it against the wall, pushing back his feelings. "I don't know. I've got to think." He pressed his face further into the wall. "But I can't think, because I screwed up. And if I screw up again—"

Toph's hand touched his. He twitched, startled, but her fingers closed around his: gently but undeniably. She knocked her free hand against his skull. "So don't screw up, Snoozles." Her voice was tender—for Toph, anyway. "Come on. Turn around."

Still frowning, he obeyed. Toph reached up and put her hands on his face. Despite himself, Sokka relaxed into the touch. No matter what they'd been doing, her hands were always cool, like a long drink after hours in the sun. She brushed her thumb over his lips and pressed her fingers against his cheeks, her voice soft but firm. "Now. No more of this, or I'll beat your ass into next week. Got it?"

Sokka sighed and rested his hands on his waist, although he was smiling a little again. "All right, all right." He ran his fingers through Toph's hair and leaned his forehead against hers. "I just... I don't know what to do now. Shouldn't I know? Isn't that supposed to be my job?"

Toph patted his cheek, a little too roughly to be affectionate. "It is your job. But since I'm in a good mood today, I guess I'll tell you just this once." Instead of speaking, she kissed him, long and soft. Then, with their faces still pressed together, she whispered, "We keep fighting. We keep fighting until we fix things. We keep fighting until we can point to this world and say, 'See what we did?' "

Sokka closed his eyes and held her against him. "You make it sound so simple."

Toph patted his cheek again. "Yeah, well, the details aren't my job, Meathead. That's your thing." She stood on tiptoe so she could kiss his cheek. "You'll figure it out." Then she pushed away from him and opened the entrance to the tunnel. "Come on, Sokka. We've got work to do." He closed his fingers around hers and let her lead him back outside.

(So that's that. Thank you all for reading.)


End file.
